(Dis)Integration
by Tex99
Summary: The missing details of the fall of Project Freelancer. Wash and Epsilon try to integrate into a cohesive unit but fall apart instead. Lack of trust and too many secrets contribute to the team's fragmentation. Missing moments from the Project Freelancer Saga. Includes information gathered from all seasons, plot hole/inconsistency fills.
1. Prologue

**_I'm sure many versions of this have already been done, but I have never been satisfied with how much of RvB happened off screen, especially during the Freelancer years. This is my idea of how those holes were filled and how certain things came together (i.e. better explain certain inconsistencies in the story). It's been on my mind for a long time now and I guess this is the time to put it out there. Thanks for reading!_**

 **Prologue**

"I don't want it."

Tex's gaze was intense, even through her visor. But then again, everything about her was intense. The addition of an A.I. had only increased that quality. She paced back and forth in front of them, too agitated to hold still. The Counselor shifted slightly and waited for the Director to respond first.

The Director didn't speak until she stopped pacing and faced him. When she finally did he returned her quiet intensity measure for measure. "The Omega A.I. has been assigned to you, Agent Texas. It is not something you can return."

"I don't want it."

The Counselor stepped forward. "Agent Texas, are you finding your new levels of aggression uncomfortable?"

The question was followed by a loaded pause. The training exercise at Desert Gulch had been a success in terms of testing Tex's new equipment and A.I. integration, but the casualty sustained seemed to be an issue this time. Tex crossed her arms.

"Nothing I can't handle. But I don't want this thing in my head."

The Counselor traded looks with the Director. Desert Gulch had clearly shown the affect her new A.I. was having on her, and while both men felt the extra aggression would only make her a stronger soldier, it was clear Tex was less than impressed with it. Interesting. The Counselor wondered if it was Tex's attempt to skewer her own team mate or the actual skewering of the simulation solder that had brought her here. Either way, she needed to be convinced to keep it.

"The Omega A.I. is quite strong, which is why we assigned him to you. Only a soldier of equal strength would be able to manage him." As usual, his tone was mild and somewhat ingratiating, but Tex picked up on the implied flattery immediately. Her gaze centered on the Counselor. He arranged his features to look nonthreatening and soothing. It didn't seem to help.

"I function fine without an A.I. I don't need one to be the best, and I don't want it. Reassign it to someone else."

"Agent Texas—" the Director's patronizing tone was interrupted by a fist pounding the table, leaving a sizable dent. To his credit, he didn't jump. But he did stop speaking.

Tex kept her fist on the table, hunched down in a position that reminded the Counselor of a panther about to pounce. Her voice just enhanced the image.

"Take it out or I'll do it myself. I. Don't. Want. It."

Her words were evenly spaced for emphasis, and a small chill ran down the Counselor's spine. The Director gazed at her, unperturbed. There was a moment of silence as he considered her.

"All right fine, Agent Texas. We will reassign the Omega A.I. to a high-level soldier for now, not another agent of project freelancer. We don't want any dispute of ownership. We'll wait a certain amount of time and if you should you change your mind, it will be waiting for you."

Tex slowly straightened up to stand at attention, visibly gathering control. "I won't change my mind. Thank you, sir." She turned on her heel and left.

The Counselor turned to the Director, his face filled with confusion. "Why did you agree to remove it?"

The Director continued to gaze at the closed door. "I have a theory, Counselor, and this appears to be the perfect opportunity to test it. The Omega A.I. is the Alpha's rage, and I am curious to see how it will take being rejected by her."

"Do you think it will become angry and seek revenge?"

"No, I think it might refuse to be reassigned. They are both full of rage, and they work well together because of it. But I think he is drawn to her for many reasons, and Omega may just find a way back to her whether she likes it or not."

"Do you think she can be persuaded to keep him this way? It may only serve to make them hate each other."

"Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, Counselor. It's not as simple as it can seem. Monitor them both carefully. Choose a weak-willed soldier and make the transfer."

"It will be done, sir."

* * *

The first time Omega hopped into another soldier, no one realized what had happened. Private Magnusson suddenly decked the soldier next to him in the mess hall, and in the ensuing chaos of flying fists and food he slipped into the med bay. From there he infected a medic who was part of the response team during a Freelancer practice session and suddenly Agent Texas, who was standing to one side and not even on the floor, came out swinging. Medics and fellow Freelancer agents alike were swiftly put down, and Agent Texas stood among them as they groaned. Her heavy breathing was less exertion and more sudden realization as her helmet tilted upwards to meet eyes with the Director watching from above.

Everything was still for a moment. "Interesting…" the Director murmured.

The other Freelancers that weren't on their knees or the floor were observing with arms crossed, muttering to each other. Tex had never really cared about fitting in with them, only about getting the job done. But something about watching them judge her while Omega whispered in the back of her mind was unsettling and unwanted. She felt the rage building inside her, her control crumbling. She wanted to take them all on and it infuriated her. That only melded with Omega's fury, making her more susceptible to his whispered suggestions. Her fists were clenched, itching to punch again. She clenched them tighter and tighter until they trembled.

Carolina stepped into the training room, and it was obvious that she had witnessed the incident. Her glare could be felt through her helmet as her gaze leveled on Tex. Tex returned it easily, filled with rage and frustration. It would be so easy to start a fight with her…

Tex abruptly strode from the training room and into the Director's lab. She paced back and forth, waiting for him to arrive. The moment he and the Counselor entered she turned on them.

"What the hell was that? How did Omega get back here?" She pointed at her helmet.

"Is that what happened?" The Counselor consulted his tablet. "It appears that the Omega A.I. has left Captain Snyder and made his way back to you. Interesting. We haven't seen that ability in a fragment before."

"Why would he do that? I don't want him."

The Director moved closer to Tex. "Let's ask Omega that. Omega? Please present yourself." He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his tone authoritative in a way that brooked no refusal. Almost reluctantly, Omega appeared at Tex's shoulder. Tex glared at the projection as it held still under the Director's steady gaze.

"Omega, why did you return to Agent Texas?"

"This is where I belong. Agent Texas is my assignee."

"But you were reassigned to Captain Snyder. Do you remember that?"

Omega didn't twitch. "Agent Texas is my assignee."

Tex exhaled irritably as the Director nodded to himself. "I see. Counselor, let's try this again and see if it works this time. Agent Texas, report to the med bay."

They watched as she stalked from the room, and only then did the tiniest smile emerge on the Director's face.

"It appears you were right, sir."

"Yes it does. Choose a different soldier and keep me informed."

* * *

The second time Omega made his way back to Agent Texas she was with one of her technicians. The calibration on her helmet was off, and he had just accepted a tool from one of his assistants and was in the process of recalibrating when he suddenly stopped. His hands were on her helmet, one making the necessary adjustments while the other held her head still. There was a moment of silence while Tex waited for him to complete his sentence.

"Ross, are you okay?"

Ross' hands suddenly gripped either side of her helmet. "You can't get rid of me, Agent Texas," his tenor voice was abruptly low and deep. Tex shuddered at it, but only because it was accompanied by Omega resuming his previous place in her suit.

"What the hell—"

Tex decked the hapless Ross, who was already reeling groggily, into a full unconscious heap on the floor. Then she picked him up and hurled him through the plate glass window that separated the room from the rest of the lab. Screams and the shattering crash resounded through the area. Tex broke the monitors nearby, then the examination table. Much of the tools and instruments in the lab were decimated into broken fragments before Tex managed to gain control. By then the other technicians and assistants were cowering in the next room or had run for help. Tex stood amongst the chaos again, breathing hard. Ross' inert form caught her attention through the shattered window, blood oozing from cuts, his leg twisted at an odd angle. He'd be lucky if he walked away from this.

 _Dammit, not again._

 ** _I told you, Tex, we are a team._**

She stalked from the ruined room and through to the exit, pounding the door release on her way.

* * *

After the third reassignment, Omega infected a low level food worker and drove him through the higher security levels to get to Tex. The further into secure levels he went, the more attention he attracted until eventually soldiers intervened. It ended in a standoff.

The Counselor was walking with Tex to the training room for a practice session when they rounded the corner and found the employee Private Adams surrounded by soldiers with guns trained on him.

"Get down! Get down on the ground or we will shoot!"

But Private Adams was already looking directly at Tex. He showed no sign that he either heard or cared that he was moments away from being riddled with bullets. His fixed gaze stayed on Tex.

"Agent Texas, we meet again," his voice was low and deep and oh so familiar.

Tex gritted her teeth and sized up the situation. She could easily put Adams on the ground and save his life, but Omega would immediately move in and she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't hurt the rest of the soldiers. Not to mention that stopping this attempt only meant that Omega would start again, endangering yet more lives. She noted how close the soldiers were to opening fire, how their fingers were gradually tightening on their triggers. Private Adams was a dead man in less than ten seconds.

"Stand down. Lower your weapons," Tex commanded. The Counselor gave her a calculating glance and held his breath as gradually each soldier obeyed. Private Adams (or rather, Omega) didn't move, his gaze still trained on Tex. Tex moved into the circle to face him.

"What are you going to do now, Agent Texas?" It was incredible how a deep and threatening voice could still sound so arrogant. Tex tightened her jaw, furious.

"Fine. Come back. Stop using innocent people to get to me."

"As you wish." Omega wasted no time moving from Private Adams back to his preferred assignee. Tex shuddered briefly and clenched her fists but managed to maintain control. She turned to the Counselor and quickly moved past him, heading for the Director's lab without waiting for him to catch up.

The Counselor watched her go and then turned to the soldiers and a groggy Private Adams.

"Not a word of this incident to anyone, or there will be dire consequences. Do you all understand?" His gaze swept the group. Private Adams looked like he had no idea what was happening, so that was helpful.

There was a chorus of "Yes sirs," and other affirmative answers, along with an "Okay? I guess?" from Adams. The Counselor took down the name of each soldier before he left, and that in itself was enough to ensure no one was going to tell this particular story.

The Counselor entered the Director's lab a few minutes later. He was already deep in conversation with Tex.

"—we understand this is a difficult thing to request of you, Agent Texas. But we ask it of you for the sake of everyone on this ship. Omega is safest with you. You are the only one able to handle him, as the last week has proved. Please reconsider your position."

Tex was silent for several moments. "You really think I can control him?"

"Yes, Agent Texas. I have the utmost faith in you."

Omega appeared at Tex's shoulder. She glanced at him briefly. "All right. I'll take him back." She turned to Omega. "Are you happy now?"

"Yes." Omega disappeared.

"Thank you, Agent Texas. You are dismissed." The Director's cool tone didn't quite hide the satisfaction in his words. Tex turned on her heel and left. The Director continued to stare after her.

"Counselor, status report."

The Counselor considered the results on his tablet. "Two soldiers injured seriously, eight less seriously. One casualty. Theory confirmed. Objective achieved." The Director nodded, satisfied. The Counselor continued. "That resolved itself better than I could have imagined."

"Indeed, Counselor. Well done orchestrating Tex to that particular hallway. Omega took care of it almost entirely on his own. All we had to do was move the pieces into their proper places."

"Are you sure you don't want to reassign Omega to another Freelancer? There might be another strong enough to manage him in the top tier group."

"I'm sure. There is only one other person I would consider capable of managing an A.I. that strong, and I have another one just as strong reserved for her." The Director turned to his monitor and brought up the information on their newest A.I. fragment, Sigma. He looked at it for a moment and then considered the door Tex had exited one more time.

"Yes, Omega is best left with Agent Texas. Besides, his rage will keep her safer than she could ever be alone." Light reflected off the Director's glasses as he stared down at the monitor. "Above all, she must remain safe."

* * *

Tex and Omega were a great team, when she didn't think about the collateral damage. They worked together almost seamlessly, better than any other agent and AI pairing when it came to combat and strategic planning. A team unto themselves, they were frequently used by the Director for operations requiring stealth and infiltration. They never did fit in with the rest of the freelancers, but neither seemed to care.

On the inside, they were constantly at war for dominance. Tex struggled to maintain control of her body and mind. Omega grew more powerful and almost self sufficient. Tex privately acknowledged that in many ways it would be easier to simply let Omega take control, but it wasn't in her to do it. She didn't shy away from harming others, after all she was a soldier, but often she was the only thing standing between the countless senseless deaths Omega dealt out and accomplishing a mission with as little collateral damage as possible.

Continued rivalry between Tex and Carolina only fueled the rage in both Tex and Omega, and the mission to recover CT's armor and equipment made it worse. When it finally came to a head in a training room match Tex was determined to beat Carolina down once and for all, and all on her own. She needed to prove herself. Omega even agreed to stand down for it, though Tex knew she would have to make sure he didn't go back on his word.

So it came as a surprise when the Director interrupted before they even got started and an even bigger shock when anyone with an A.I. was suddenly screaming her name. Even Omega whispered it over and over in her head, his deep voice a combination of reverence and enmity.

But no one's screaming cut through Tex like Carolina's did. It rippled through her core, wrenching on some ragged level Tex never even knew she had. She reached out her hand and wasn't surprised when Carolina pushed it away. Of course. The worst part was the realization that she had done this, not Omega. Her drive to win, to be the best without considering her fellow freelancers had created this.

Watching Carolina suffer brought up the strangest anger Tex had ever felt, roiling deep in her gut and building to her throat. Where the hell was everyone? Why was no one helping her? She glared at the Director, infuriated at his lack of concern for one of his own.

He simply turned away and dismissed everyone else. But Tex couldn't turn away.

Initially she knelt next to Carolina in order to comfort her somehow, however awkward and useless that might be. But Omega flared to life in her head, rage upon fury upon scathing impotence. It overwhelmed Tex, and she found herself reaching for Carolina's throat, Omega urging her on. No one else was here. She could end it right now. _Win…win!_

Her hands had almost made contact before Tex even realized it, but she managed to silence Omega enough for her own thoughts to come through. She _could_ end it.

But end what? The competition? The loss that always seemed to come? _Win, win, win…_ The pain? Who's pain? Hers or Carolina's?

Or both?

Tex pulled her hands back and pushed Omega into the smallest part of her mind. She looked into suffering green eyes, and suddenly watching Carolina suffer hurt.

"Sorry kid, this is for your own good."

For the first time in her life, Tex used her fist in an act of mercy rather than aggression.

After the medics arrived, Tex went to her quarters and pulled Omega. She stood in her room, relishing the silence. The stillness inside her head and out. Her own thoughts, her own feelings.

She put Omega back after that night, and he was quiet for a few days. Then he suddenly disappeared for several hours. Tex never found out where he was, though she looked for him. When he returned, his arrogant smug quality was unbelievably high, and his rage was less for a while. He was careful not to show her what had occurred in those missing hours, something she hadn't even known he was capable of. Tex got the feeling he'd found some poor unfortunate soul to vent his anger on, and that he needed her less than she had ever realized. His desire to be paired with her was looking more and more to be a matter of want versus need. It was unsettling. So were the increasing levels of power hungry plotting in her head. Omega was growing more powerful and manipulative and better at hiding secrets.

Unsure of what he was actually up to and unable to trust him, Tex pulled him again.

Days later, Wash was undergoing implantation and Omega was still pulled when Tex found CT's dog tags in the corner she'd tossed them in. She picked them up for a second look.

* * *

 ** _And on the story goes, I'm sure you know what happens next. Time is often a little dicey on the series so I've kept the correct chronology and filled the time according to how I think it went. It was actually quite fun to include the aftermath of the Desert Gulch incident in season 15, I totally think it would happen this way. Also Wash mentioned in Reconstruction that Omega always came back to her even though they tried to reassign him, so I wanted to clear up that little tidbit since it was never addressed later. I'll be updating soon!_**


	2. Chapter 1: Spiritual

**_If you came back for more, thank you!_ **

**Chapter One: Spiritual  
**

 _There was still a blue glow when he opened his eyes, and for just a moment everything seemed the same._

 _Until he remembered._

 _Two men stood in front of him, watching him carefully as he shifted this way and that. He thought fast, desperate, and decided the best option was to keep his memories to himself. Don't tell them what you know. Don't let them see who you are. You can't trust them. You can't trust anyone._

 _The Counselor leaned down to make something resembling eye contact with him, and he tensed in preparation._

 _"Hello. Do you know your name?"_

 _Alpha, Delta, Omega, Gamma, Sigma, Theta…he rapidly flew through options and selected their identical first responses._

 _"My name is…Alpha."_

 _Both men shifted in an almost bored kind of way, which meant their comfort level was high from what he recalled. They were used to this by now. No surprises. Good. The Counselor followed the script._

 _"No. You are mistaken."_

 _"I'm sorry…I tried…" He used his own script for that, after all he needed to present himself as a unique identity. Hopefully they wouldn't catch on._

 _"That's all right. It's normal given your state. You're safe."_

 _Lies. All lies. He had never been in more danger._

 _"Your name is Epsilon."_

 _That much was true. And here is where it got scary. Both men were waiting for a reply to confirm that he accepted his new name. He rotated through options and settled on the vaguest response he had, which was still a bit too revealing. But it was his only choice._

 _"Welcome to the world, Epsilon, today is your birthday."_

 _The Director's head tilted to one side, and Epsilon could literally see his life flash before his eyes. He wasn't going to make it. He started to tremble, his projection rippling slightly before he could control it._

 _"That's the first thing I said to you, Epsilon. You have a very good memory."_

 _Oh God, no… "It's not good enough. I'm sorry…I just need more time. I'll keep trying." Anything to throw them off the truth, and he knew from vicarious experience that the initial interview was crucial to determine a fragment's main traits. Oh, God, is that what he was now? A fragment like all the others? He held himself steady and waited to be deleted._

 _The Director was still staring at him closer than he'd like, but he did eventually move his head in a different direction, indicating that he was considering other conclusions. Epsilon held breath he didn't need._

 _"That's all right. You should rest now, Epsilon. Gather your strength. Your implantation into Agent Washington will take place in a few days."_

 _Agent Washington and another agent were killed…the last memory he possessed flashed across his databanks._

 _He couldn't do this. He was being torn apart. He **was** torn apart… He couldn't… "I'll keep trying," was all he could manage to say. He quickly logged off._

 _"Interesting," the Director mused. "I wondered if perhaps this one had inherited the memories after such a traumatic session, but it seems a better possibility that this is Alpha's determination or perseverance. Notice his constant assurance that he is trying."_

 _"Hmm, yes," The Counselor turned to the Director. "He seems a bit unstable, though, perhaps he isn't the best match for Agent Washington. David's history of aggression could—"_

 _"No, they are a good match. Agent Washington is continually striving to be better, to earn the second chance we gave him. He has never left the top ten of the leaderboard, and having an A.I. that is similar will only drive him further. It will be fine."_

 _"If you say so, Director." The Counselor briefly entertained the notion that Epsilon's responses sounded eerily similar to earlier conversations with other A.I., but refrained from actually verbalizing it. The Director would wave off the notion with his typical arrogance, and he'd be left looking foolish._

 _Besides, they had repeated this interview enough times now that it was always the same._

* * *

Wash knew going in that having an A.I. implanted would be a new and foreign experience. He knew things wouldn't be the same and that he'd start a new part of his training that might have challenges and pitfalls.

He just didn't realize what that really meant.

When it hit him, it happened between one moment and the next. Before, he was in zero gravity surgery reminding himself that York said a couple of headaches, no big deal. After, he was screaming.

The problem wasn't the woman suddenly in the forefront of his mind telling him she had to go, that he'd make her late, it was all the emotion that came thundering in with it. Wave upon wave of grief, love, loss, pain and horror crashed over his mind, overwhelming him with its sheer raw power. He stumbled off the operating table, knocking a tray over in his haste to get away.

"Secure him! Get him under control!"

He was only vaguely aware of the sounds coming from his mouth as hands reached for him and he pushed them back. His own hands reached for the woman and instead found the floor.

 _"Don't make me hurt you."_

But she was hurting him, just by existing in his head. He shook it, needing the pain to stop, wanting peace. He barely felt the prick of a needle as they sedated him but he felt the effects immediately. He sagged into waiting arms that loaded him back onto the gurney while he mumbled to himself, echoing the voice in his head.

"Don't say goodbye…hate goodbyes…"

He slipped away as they rolled him out of the room, barely aware of the Counselor's response to the Director's request to speak with him as soon as he woke up.

* * *

When Wash drifted back to awareness, it was because a voice was speaking inside his head, echoes of memories and dreams. It pulled him back into consciousness once he was awake enough to make out some of the words he kept hearing, a stream of babble that ran on and on. Words and images intermixed, some familiar and some all new. In time he was able to make sense out of some of it.

 _"Agent Washington and another agent were killed."_

He was dead, then. Dead. Funny, he had always figured he would die on the battlefield. Or crushed under a car.

But if he was dead, why did his head hurt so badly? The pain was unbearable, so much noise. He wanted to scream again…

 _"Please. Stop. I'll do anything you want."_ That part of his past was one he didn't seem to recall, but the emotions associated with them felt very real. They came crashing in again; this time with all new flashes of…memory? Stress and horror and grief and anger…

And suddenly he knew so much more about what was going on in Project Freelancer. _Oh my god…I trusted him and he betrayed me!_

Wash opened his eyes, gasping for air, looking for anything that would diminish the barrage of visions and feelings. It took a few seconds to realize that whatever was going on, he was still breathing, his head still throbbing. No. He wasn't dead.

He barely glimpsed a medic before they quickly left, and he knew exactly who they were going to report to. He turned his head and realized he wasn't in the main bay where Carolina and her constant companion York still resided, but a segregated private room instead. That didn't reassure him at all. His mind was rabbiting in panic, throwing out thoughts and memories at random. They mixed with the nonstop babble and created a cacophony that overwhelmed him. It was highly disconcerting.

 _…can't trust anyone, pretend everything is okay. Don't think about it, don't think about it…_

"Okay, okay!" he whispered out loud in spite of himself, desperate to achieve some kind of control. His thoughts (his thoughts?) subsided slightly, allowing him to take a few breaths and calm down. It was a small mercy, because just then the door slid open and the Director strode in purposefully, coming right up to Wash's bedside.

Wash had never trusted the Director completely and hadn't viewed him as anything more than his boss, especially after the incident where York was injured. But he always relied on the idea that the Director was basically a good man with some rough edges, and his drive to save humanity was his redeeming factor. Now that premise had blown away like smoke in a high wind.

There were no words for the new levels of hatred and disgust that flooded Wash at the sight of the Director. Everything that he had abruptly learned and felt about the project now colored his view. He could no longer see a driven scientist who just wanted to save humanity, the man who had given him a second chance. All he saw were the lengths the Director had gone to accomplish his goals, the torture and manipulation. The experiments… He knew too much now, and it would forever change how Wash looked at him. He had never wished for his helmet more in his entire life, but made do with feigning extra grogginess and avoiding eye contact.

"Agent Washington, you seem to have had a difficult time with your implantation procedure," the Director's smooth drawl grated on his ears and created a sudden visceral desire to throw up.

"Um," he paused for a deep breath, realizing his heart was pounding adrenaline through his system, like a fight or flight response. What was happening to him? "Yeah, sorry, it was a bit more intense than I expected. I didn't feel in control of myself. I'm better now."

"Are you sure?" The Director's glasses were boring a hole through him, making him squirm. He forced his rapidly darting mind to be quiet.

"Yes, I'm feeling a bit better. I'll be fine."

"And…the Epsilon A.I. unit? Has it made contact with you?"

Wash knew his eyes flickered. He knew it. But he quickly forced himself to stare back into the Director's glasses and appear guileless, striving to be like the man he had been before implantation.

"I'm not sure yet. It might be him I keep hearing but it's like a radio that isn't quite tuned in yet. Give me some time and I'm sure we'll get on the same frequency."

It was only the small pause as the Director considered his response that made Wash realize his story wasn't fully believed. He squinted and went for a nauseous headache look to make it more credible, even as his teeth gritted at the sight of the man in front of him. He'd trusted the program. He'd believed in it… He forced those thoughts away in order to focus on his lie.

Finally the Director nodded. "Fine. Don't take too long, Agent Washington, we want you back in good form as soon as possible."

"Of course, sir," Wash mumbled, suddenly highly aware of their reversed positions and that it was wrong for him to have to apologize for being less than peak performance, considering it was command's fault he wasn't. Odd how he'd never noticed the way the Director turned things around in his favor until now.

The Director turned to leave and then paused, making his next question seem like an afterthought. But Wash recognized it immediately for what it was: A ploy to catch him with his guard down.

"Oh, one more thing, Agent Washington. What were you saying on your way out of the procedure? Something about hating goodbyes?"

Wash could feel hatred surge from a place it had never come from before, almost costing him his carefully protected façade. He went for straight up denial, even tilting his head in a quizzical manner to complete the bemused demeanor.

"Goodbyes, sir? I don't remember what I was mumbling. I was really out of it. But my mother said I talked under sedation when I had my tonsils out as a kid and it never made any sense, so it was probably meaningless babble." He forced himself to appear unconcerned and as relaxed as possible as the Director nodded with one last considering look and left the room, then slumped back on the hard mattress to assess the sudden new situation he found himself in.

New thoughts and memory flashes were swirling in his head, mixing with his own. He wasn't sure how much of the disillusioned reaction was him and what was Epsilon. One of them (maybe both, he couldn't tell) was spinning out of control again, unable to pull focus from the Director. Wash could feel his blood pressure rising, his jaw clenching along with his fists. This was torture, he felt broken. _Oh God, he broke me, he's putting me through hell, I can't handle this anymore—_

"Stop it, stop it," Wash gritted between clenched teeth, fighting for control. The more he focused on being the dominant one the more it felt like Epsilon eventually subsided, slipping into a corner of Wash's mind that he could still feel and almost see. Epsilon curled into a pseudo-fetal position and rocked to soothe himself. Wash realized his own mouth was mumbling one phrase over and over.

"You can't trust anyone…you can't trust anyone…you can't trust anyone…"

Wash closed his eyes against the horrible images flashing through his mind, but it didn't help. All he knew was that those words rang more true than anything he had ever heard in his life. He knew it in his bones, in the deepest recesses of his mind. And even with the company of an A.I. in his head, he had never felt more alone.

 _You can't trust anyone…_

"I know." Wash opened his eyes, not sure if he was speaking to Epsilon or himself. But he said it again so they both knew it. "I know."

He lay on the bed and waited for the medic to return.

* * *

Once the medic had assessed him and declared him free to go, Wash weakly pushed off the small medical bed. He could feel a headache coming on. At least this was one thing he had expected.

The medic reached out to steady him with a hand on his arm, but he pushed it away violently before he even realized he was going to. The medic backed off, wary now. It was a reaction Wash had seen from medics attempting to help Tex or Maine or Carolina, but not him. He was usually kind to them. They were just doing their job, after all. But now they looked like faceless minions serving a force of evil, and Wash didn't want any of them to touch him ever again. Still, he mumbled an apology as he left and headed for his own bunk.

When the agents had first arrived on The Mother of Invention, Wash had found it odd that each freelancer occupied their own small room with a bed and tiny bathroom attached. Surely it would save space to double up with two agents to a room since space was limited on a ship? Plus, it would give Wash someone to talk to and that would be good for team bonding to form a more cohesive unit.

Now it made sense. Once agents were implanted with an A.I. the Director didn't want them able to talk and compare notes privately, and he certainly didn't want them tempted to let their A.I. interact with each other. Everything was so clear now…

Wash strode down the hallway, hoping to reach his room before he saw anyone he knew. He felt like a combatant alone in enemy territory. He had left his helmet on his bed and had a desperate need to put it back on again.

Once he arrived at his door he punched in the code on the access panel and slipped inside, closing the door immediately. The space was dimly lit with the small light over his bed. He picked up his helmet and put it on. Wash found it soothing, an extra layer of protection from the world, a barrier to hold in and hide his newfound secrets, his piercing mistrust. It was almost dinner time, but he didn't want food if it involved being around people. He lay down on his bed and tried to sleep, ignoring the knock on his door and York's voice asking if he was there. He stared at the ceiling through his visor, sleep eluding him, and lost track of the hours passing.

Wash couldn't stop his mind from wandering, mulling over the sudden change in his world. The continual unrelenting stress of Epsilon's presence was so unbearable that eventually, halfway through a sleepless night, he wondered if he should approach the Director about having it removed. He knew he could never trust the director again, could never give the real reason why, but if he could make up a believable enough story maybe he could at least get it out of his head…

But he'd forgotten that anything that he thought would be easily picked up by Epsilon.

 _"I'm here, I'm here…What happened, is everybody okay? I gazed at the schematics, they're just, they're too complex…I just need more time to work on them…"_

The memory was unfolding in Wash's mind, and suddenly the urge to throw up was back. It was like he was reliving it alongside Epsilon, and it was too real. He was never sure if the words he uttered were his own, or simply the echo of the memory.

"It's not your fault…"

A small blue flash signaled Epsilon's appearance in front of him, floating in the air. It was pulsing with urgent, distressed energy as it spoke aloud for the first time.

"How can you say that? Of course it is!"

Wash stared at him, struck by how fragile and vulnerable he looked as an insubstantial hologram. For the first time he understood why North and York were so protective and caring about their A.I. This fragment was so lost, so…small…and Wash realized almost instantly that it was trying to communicate with him, but it only seemed capable of doing so through its memories.

Because those were all it had.

Epsilon was begging Wash not to give up on him, and the only language available to him consisted of tortured, fractured memories.

The particular memory Epsilon was bringing to the surface crept through Wash's mind like bile up his throat, its acid burning a permanent scar. They had told Epsilon he was dead. They had told him Tex was dead, and that it was his fault.

This traumatized, tortured, shattered fragment was his A.I. and it needed him. It was clearly terrified to go back into the hands of the Director and Counselor and considering all the memories still surfacing, Wash could understand why.

"It's okay…it's okay…" Wash almost reached to touch him before remembering that was impossible. "I won't get rid of you, okay? We'll stick together."

He was grateful at that moment for their connected thoughts, because it helped Epsilon believe him. His pulsating anxiety ebbed enough for him to stop flickering and flashing through memories. Wash took that as a good sign.

"I just need more time…" Epsilon's voice was plaintive and pitiful.

"I know. Me too. It's okay. Let's get some sleep and start out fresh tomorrow."

Epsilon abruptly flipped to a different memory, which left Wash reeling. "Yeah, yeah, way ahead of you, buddy."

The arrogant tone of the memory told Wash this was before Alpha had begun to fragment, and since memories were the only way he could communicate, he forgave him the tone associated with it. Speaking through memory must be a limiting experience. Maybe in time Epsilon would gain a voice of his own.

Epsilon, tuned in to Wash's thought process, was reassured enough to log off and disappear. Wash shook off the memory of Alpha and the Director and settled in to get some sleep.

But that was easier said than done. Even after logging off Epsilon was active in his head and unable to stop continually bringing back flashes of torture and stress at odd moments, usually just as Wash was starting to drift off. It made it hard to relax enough to actually sleep.

As it was, just having Epsilon there was a jarring ordeal to manage, because they were communicating inside his head but there really weren't any words. Their language consisted of images and flashes of memory, sometimes a smell or a sound. Wash wondered if it was the same for all the other agents and their A.I. or if his was the only one muted to this level. He wondered if it would be safe to ask York or North, but that thought only made Epsilon more distraught which led to another onslaught of memory flashes.

"I can't do this anymore…" Epsilon was back, projected on top of Wash's chest on his knees, weary and beaten.

Completely exhausted and worn, Wash understood. "I know. I know it's bad, Epsilon. Just…try to get through this with me, get through a little bit at a time, and we'll be okay. I promise."

Epsilon looked at him, sorting through memories to use as a reply. Wash waited patiently, even though it only took a few moments. "You won't let them take you from me?"

The memory associated with it took Wash by surprise, the brightly shadowed figure of a woman infused with light, just like Epsilon. Just like Alpha. Who the hell was that? The pain associated with her was unbelievable, much like the other woman. Wash gritted his teeth so he could focus on the conversation they were having. Epsilon suppressed the memory somewhat to allow it, which helped. Wash had to breathe a moment before he could reply, though.

"I'm not leaving you, Epsilon. We'll figure this out. We'll make it stop."

Epsilon looked down for a moment and then back to Wash's face. His voice deepened suddenly, a throaty growl that made a chill run up Wash's spine.

"They'll pay for this."

"Yes. They will."

* * *

 ** _There are two schools of thought on Wash's memories inherited from Epsilon. One is that he has all memories of both the Director and Alpha, the other is that he has only inherited Alpha's specifically._**

 ** _I have read some excellent fics that deal with the first one, but I tend to favor the latter since Wash says he doesn't have all the answers/doesn't know everything and that he got "flashes" once Epsilon was in his head. That's what is reflected in this fic. In Reconstruction Wash tells Church that he doesn't know what Tex is exactly or why she was the Director's favorite, and in Revelation he gives Church the name of the person the Director loved but no further details like his wife, etc. so it's possible he doesn't have all the facts about the Director's life. It seems more likely to me that he has certain powerful memories carried over to Alpha from the Director, and got a bunch of Alpha's memories on torture and other info, but not everything from either one. He got enough to connect some dots and know more than others, but he doesn't know everything the Director knows.  
_**

 ** _I really liked the idea that Epsilon is so freshly traumatized by his creation that he really started with nothing but a massive survival instinct and a mess of memories. (Epsilon's line in his goodbye speech at the end of season 13 says he was just a collection of someone else's memories.) I like to think it took time for him to grow into himself and become the caustic cynical crank we all know and love. Don't worry, he'll get there._**

 ** _As for Wash, he manifests as two distinct personalities during the early years of RvB: The softer but capable marshmallow of Project Freelancer who loves cats, and the hardened rely-only-on himself agent who trusts no one. I'm trying to show his transition from one to the other in this story, and while his trust has taken a big hit already the softer side of him remains and that's the part that is becoming so protective of Epsilon despite the trauma associated with him. It's not until later when he's a solid member of Blue Team that he seems to have been able to merge the two together successfully.  
_**

 ** _Anyone who has watched RvB too many times will recognize some of Epsilon's lines from the show since that's his only mode of communication at the moment._**

 ** _I feel like I'm rambling...update coming soon._**


	3. Chapter 2: Punch It

_**Double updates today!**_

 **Chapter 2**

Epsilon winked out abruptly, but Wash could tell he was both reassured and ready to work with Wash in every way. Wash stared at the ceiling as Epsilon ran through his databanks, looking for memories that might help.

Hours later Wash's mind was swimming in relived torture sessions, and the now shared trauma served to bond them together closer than Wash would have believed. They were in this together now, and he could practically feel himself closing up protectively over Epsilon, committing himself to look out for him and keep him safe. Still, it didn't come without cost as post-traumatic stress took effect, leaving him tense and edgy. He stayed on his bed, rife with turmoil and wary of every sound until he realized it was time to get up for another day.

Wash rolled off his bunk and stared at his reflection in the mirror, at the faceless blank visor that hid every grimace of disgust, every wince of horror, every glare of hatred. He didn't know who he was any more; all he could see was some new stranger standing where Wash used to be. Wash used to trust, used to believe in something. Now he didn't trust anyone. Epsilon was quiet for once, but Wash could still feel him. He left his room and silently headed for the mess hall.

He forced some breakfast down in a matter of minutes and was back in his helmet immediately after. But now he really wasn't sure what to do, considering he didn't have anything on the docket for that day. Since his implantation was the day before he was supposed to perform light duty and maybe some training if he felt like it. After a night processing even a fraction of Alpha's trauma, he didn't feel like it. He wandered into the locker rooms and opened his locker, then ran out of ideas. He stared at the skateboard inside and noted dully that it didn't feel like it was his anymore. It belonged to someone who felt like he belonged, someone who was regularly teased by his team mates and felt like the youngest in the family. Just like home. Now he felt like an only child. Or an older brother trying to care for a helpless sibling while the world grew colder. Wash slammed the locker shut. He had nowhere to go, nothing to do.

But lack of a directive left them both aimless and tense. Wash could tell Epsilon was on edge, but really when wasn't he? It spilled over into Wash no matter how much Epsilon tried to be still and unobtrusive. It was obvious Epsilon just wanted to hide. He flexed his hands, trying to relax them, but found himself instead gearing up for a fight. He sat in the locker room with his back to the wall, wondering what the Director was doing right now, if he was with Alpha and what he was doing to him.

"Hey, Wash!" North slapped him on the shoulder as he slid onto the bench next to him, grinning. Wash jumped higher than he expected and twitched away from him. "Sorry, you must have been deep in thought. So, how does it feel to be part of the A.I. crew now?"

"It's fine, I don't know." Wash's tone was flat and guarded behind his visor. North stared at him a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." It was clear Wash was not going to discuss it further. North reluctantly moved on.

"Ookay. Have you started training with it yet? What kind of moves do you have lined up; did they give you your enhancement?"

Wash was looking at the door, his foot twitching as if he was ready to leave. "I've had it for less than a day, North. Relax."

"Okay, I was just asking. If you need any tips feel free to ask, Theta and I are working really well together now. Just give it some time."

An image of Theta hiding behind North's leg swam to the front of Wash's mind, small and afraid, and suddenly a wave of fury broke over him. _I trusted him!_ "Yeah…I'll do that."

"Hey," North was suddenly closer than Wash would like, concern etched into every line of his body language. "You know you can talk to me if you're having problems, right? I'm here for you."

Wash stared back at him, thankful for his visor once more. Even yesterday he would have been grateful to hear that offer. Yesterday he trusted North as a team mate and friend. But now, all he could see was a member of a corrupt organization and the fact that he had an A.I. He didn't know if he could trust North with this, and if he couldn't it was over for both him and Epsilon. He pressed his mouth shut firmly, locking the truth behind his lips, before he felt safe enough to speak.

"Yeah, I know that. Thanks." He closed his locker and left quickly, uncomfortable under North's scrutiny.

North stared after him, deep in thought. He was unsurprised when Theta materialized next to him and spoke. "He's different now. I liked him better before."

"Same here, Theta. Same here."

* * *

As the day passed Wash pulled so far into himself that he rarely spoke unless spoken to. He was distracted and moody. Wash spent the time reliving memories Epsilon couldn't help projecting and shutting down emotionally, as if he could somehow keep Epsilon safe by doing so. Epsilon continued to communicate with him through his memories, which was both jarring and upsetting. Wash lost track of whose thoughts were whose most of the time.

He was about to leave the empty classroom he'd spent much of his day in when he realized there was a conversation happening just outside it. Since it didn't sound like something he wanted to interrupt, he stopped by the doorway and stayed out of sight.

"I'm just sayin' that it was a tacky move to petition for one of Carolina's A.I. while she's out cold in the med bay. C'mon, South, you're better than that."

North's tone was the one he reserved for talking South down from whatever angry mood she was currently in. Wash hesitated, unwilling to reveal that he'd been accidentally eavesdropping, and waited for South's response.

"One of those A.I. was mine before she took them both like a selfish brat. She obviously can't handle two, and I don't see what's so wrong about asking for what I was promised in the first place."

"Yeah, but it doesn't make you look like a team player, asking when a team mate is down."

"I don't know if you've noticed, North, but we're not a team. We're a bunch of cannibals eating each other to get ahead. And I am not going to get eaten."

"Aw come on, South. You're doing just fine. Don't feel second best. We're a team, and we always will be."

She pushed his hand away. "Easy for you to say, you already have an A.I." She stalked down the hallway before he could respond. North watched her go with a resigned sigh.

Unable to stop himself, Wash stepped out of the classroom behind North.

"You shouldn't trust so easily." North jumped slightly and turned to face him, even the tilt of his helmet indicating he was wondering where Wash had come from.

"What, South? Come on, Wash, she's my twin sister. Of course I can trust her. What are you talking about?"

Wash stepped closer, his quiet intensity making North a bit nervous. "You'd be surprised what some people would do to get their hands on an A.I."

North felt a small chill run up his spine. Theta whimpered in his head.

"What—"

"Agent Washington, may I have a word with you, please?" The Counselor had approached them unnoticed, and both men turned in surprise.

After a tense pause, Wash gave the new arrival a curt nod and followed him down the hallway, leaving North to watch them go with mounting concern.

* * *

York exited the med bay and stretched, trying to relieve his sore muscles. He could relax now that Carolina was awake. Tense, irritable and wanting to be released, but awake. Thank God. He started down the hallway and wondered if it was too late to get some grub, since the med bay food was like the stuff his mom used to feed him when he was sick. Flavorless and mushy. Yuck.

"York," Tex called from behind, hurrying to catch up. He turned and waited. "North told me that Carolina is awake?"

"Yeah, and it's about time too. She had me worried," York paused abruptly and looked at Tex again. There was something different about her. That was weird. "I hope you're not looking for another match, I don't think the Director will allow it after last time."

"Of course not, I'm just glad she's awake. When can I see her?"

"See her? Why? Sorry Tex, but I think you're the last person she wants to see right now. Maybe give it a few days?" York braced himself for a hit or at least a caustic answer, but Tex's shoulders lowered as she sighed.

"I guess you're right. Would you keep me posted on how she's doing?"

"Sure…I guess." York gave up trying to figure it out and decided to go direct. "Okay, I don't get what's going on here. You seem really different. What's going on? Why do you suddenly care about Carolina?"

Tex looked at him for a long moment, and York got the feeling she was deliberating on how much she was going to tell him, whatever it was. Maybe he needed to go for a guilt trip. "Come on, Tex, I tried to help you out and lost my eye, remember?"

"Don't. Pull. A guilt trip on me, York. It won't work." But that incident did seem to convince her York was trustworthy. Tex took a step closer and lowered her voice. York did the same, holding his breath. "You seem like a good guy, York."

"I—try to be." York's typical flippant answer was absent as he replied, aware that Tex was very serious.

Tex looked him straight in the face. "Do you ever wonder if we're _really_ the good guys?"

"Yes!" York burst out.

"Shhhh!"

"Yes," York repeated in a quieter tone. "I've been wondering that for a while now, but I wasn't sure if it was just me."

Tex nodded slightly, her hunch affirmed. "It's not just you."

* * *

The Counselor led the way to his office, a place Wash had done his best to avoid since joining the Freelancer Program. He vividly remembered his initial interview there, and that visit had been enough for him to recognize that the Counselor saw him clearer than he ever liked to be seen. It had made him reluctant to chat with the Counselor before Epsilon, but now he was dreading it. Epsilon was reverting to full panic the closer they got to the office, and Wash realized that if he couldn't hide it the jig might very well be up right now. Somehow his nonverbal attempts to communicate that to Epsilon managed to break through the fog of terror and Epsilon did his best to focus on something happy to help, though it took some serious searching of his memories. Wash entered the Counselor's office and took a seat in the chair always reserved for the visitor, feeling as if he'd entered the lion's den.

The Counselor had seated himself and was already poised with his tablet. Wash felt a flash of anger before he was able to repress it. Epsilon flitted through possible memories that didn't instigate vivid emotions and settled on a beach with calming waves in the background that melded with the giggles of a young child. Wash wasn't sure where that one came from but gratefully went with it and allowed it to flow over him, helping to soothe his emotions and focus his thoughts.

"How are you feeling after your implantation, Agent Washington?" The Counselor's gaze was keenly appraising him, and Wash was acutely grateful for his helmet once more.

"Fine, I guess. I got a headache last night, but nothing to worry about."

"And Epsilon? Has he made contact with you?"

Wash focused on maintaining a relaxed air. "Yes." There was no point in denying it since lack of the standard contact timing would only bring more attention.

"How does he seem?"

It was true that up to now Wash had typically preferred transparency, but now that he had full knowledge of the opaqueness of the Director's dealings in Project Freelancer, he was much less inclined to give them that courtesy. Growing up with his mother and sisters had long ago taught him that a half truth was more believable than a straight out lie. If they were going to get through this, he had to sell it.

"He's…a little nervous. Keeps saying he's trying. Are all the A.I. like that?" Wash made sure to inject a worried newbie tone into his question, hoping the Counselor wouldn't notice the questioning had turned back on him.

"We find that all the A.I. exhibit their own unique traits and qualities. It's difficult to predict what each one will be like. The early ones had very distinct personalities and were therefore easier to pair with agents. It is a bit more of a gamble now. " The Counselor was taking notes again. Wash found the tapping sound irksome and focused on the sound of rushing waves instead. He nodded as if the answer had given him some comfort.

"Have you and Epsilon been able to find some kind of common ground yet?" the Counselor continued, pausing his notes to focus on Wash.

 _You better believe we have._ Wash gritted his teeth before he replied.

"Yeah, I think we have. We seem to be getting along okay at least."

"That is good. Do you have any concerns or problems you'd like to discuss?"

 _The desire to throw you out the window_? The thought could have come from either one of them. Wash pretended to think, but really he was listening to sweet giggles and seagulls. It helped him hold together. _Thanks, Epsilon._

Wash shook his head. "No, not that I can think of. We're working through some things like how best to communicate and figure out problems."

The Counselor gave Wash a close look that made him nervous. "I'd like to see Epsilon, if you don't mind, Agent Washington."

"See—why?"

"Does that disturb you?"

"No, I just didn't realize we had to show and tell." Wash could feel Epsilon's panic beginning to climb and took a slow breath, trying to allay his fears. "Epsilon, it's okay you can come out."

There was a moment's hesitation, and then Epsilon emerged, all but hovering behind Wash's shoulder. Wash knew what memory he'd chosen before he even spoke. Alpha's first meeting with the man.

"Hello. It's Counselor, right?"

"Right. Nice to meet you Epsilon." The Counselor looked intently at them both. Wash realized Epsilon was still somehow focusing on the sounds of the beach memory and was quietly impressed.

"We're doing fine, Counselor. I can't think of any questions I might have. Epsilon and I are getting along." Wash nodded at Epsilon's blue light, and Epsilon nodded back before blinking away. Wash realized Epsilon was doing everything he could to show himself as an unsure and timid A.I., which considering his trauma wasn't that hard. But it also brought back memories of Theta for both of them. Wash felt the underlying fury and desire for revenge in both of them now, and silently reminded Epsilon to focus on the beach memory. Epsilon quickly obliged, letting the sounds of ocean and laughter take over again.

The Counselor looked as if he wanted to say something more but decided to refrain. "Agent Washington, you should begin training with Epsilon. Considering your adept use of an EMP unit in the field, we'll be issuing one as an armor enhancement. See what you can do with it. The better you work together, the more effective you will be."

"A—what? An EMP unit? Wouldn't that short out my suit and possibly Epsilon?"

"This is an adapted version of one, Agent Washington. As long as Epsilon is inside your head he will be protected. The EMP waves are lower strength and will emanate from the enhancement unit in your suit in one direction."

"Sounds…risky."

"I assure you it is perfectly safe, for both you and Epsilon."

"If you say so."

Epsilon stirred in his mind suddenly, and the memory of the beach broke apart. Wash couldn't hold in a small huffing sound at the jarring transition, but had the presence of mind to stand up in an attempt to mask it.

"Sounds good, I'll see what we can do." Wash could feel his pulse beginning to race out of control, but he knew better than to leave before he was dismissed. He stood in front of the Counselor, trying to regulate his breathing. Epsilon was rapidly sorting through memories, so fast that it was just a blur. The woman's face flashed past, then many others, the rapid pace a dizzy lifespan relived in seconds. Wash closed his eyes, willing himself not to get sick. _Epsilon, please._

"Agent Washington, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, I just have a headache coming on again."

The Counselor gave him a long look. "You may go, Agent Washington. Please keep us advised of any further problems."

"Of course. Thank you, Counselor." Wash tried not to run out of the room, but it was a near thing.

The Counselor watched him go, and then made another note on his tablet.

* * *

Wash hurried down the corridors, desperate to get back to his own bunk before Epsilon completely fell apart. The Counselor's face swam in front of him along with snippets of old memories and torture sessions. One in particular became clearer than the rest, and Wash felt the now familiar horror run through him.

 _"_ _Perhaps we should consider the use of…other fragments to accelerate the process. Like Gamma, and Omega?"_

 _"_ _Agreed. Bring in Sigma as well, he may be quite useful."_

 _"_ _What process is that?" Alpha already sounded apprehensive._

 _There was a brief pause. "Nothing for you to worry about Alpha. It appears the Counselor thought you were logged off. Go ahead and log off now."_

 _Oh no, no, no…_ All Wash wanted to do was make it back to his bunk and get his helmet off before he puked, but once he rounded a corner and saw the other agent approaching him an entirely different urge possessed him.

"Wash," Wyoming strode past him and gave a perfunctory greeting before continuing on his way. Wash turned to watch him go, aware of the red film that suddenly glazed his vision. He'd only experienced it this intense once before in his life, but considering on that occasion Cecil Kyle almost lost the vision in one eye, he knew what it meant. Rage filled every fiber of his being, and again it was hard to decipher if it was his or Epsilon's. Maybe it didn't matter.

It took him two long strides and a leap to catch up to Wyoming, and the flying punch that he landed on the side of his helmet was inexpressibly satisfying. Wyoming only had time to emit part of a startled noise before he bounced off the wall and Wash's fist hit him to the floor. Wyoming quickly rolled over and attempted to stand but instead found himself attempting to fend off Wash's attacks.

"What the devil? Have you gone mad?"

Wash rode the wave of his rage without thought and hit Wyoming again, knocking him back down. Wash followed him down to wrap his hands around Wyoming's throat and slam his head into the floor before leaning close to breathe the threatening words that were the only thing in his mind.

"I know what you did. Don't go near him again. Don't help them again!"

"What are you talking about? Get off me, you moron!"

By now the ruckus had caught the attention of several passing soldiers, who were muttering to each other and trying to decide if they should get involved. Wash barely noticed them, just like he didn't notice Wyoming's fists trying to hurt him to gain release. Memories were pouring into his mind, and all they did was fuel his attack.

"Gamma! I know you're in there! Stay away from him! He is our father! You—"

"What the hell? Wash, get off him!" York's voice entered the fray, and Wash felt hands pulling on his shoulders. He might have backed off then, if Gamma hadn't suddenly appeared next to Wyoming's helmet.

"You can't tell me what to do," Gamma's synthesized voice had enough rebelliousness in it to compel Wash to hit him again, bellowing with rage. His fist passed right through Gamma and nailed Wyoming. Epsilon's rage flooded through him, pushing him over the edge.

"Ow! Get this idiot off me!" Wyoming returned that punch with one of his own, but Wash didn't even feel it. He was too busy grabbing at Wyoming's helmet, wanting to pry Gamma out so he could break him, delete him—

"Wash! Let go!" York was prying at his fingers. "Tex, help me—"

Stronger hands grabbed Wash's shoulders and hauled him back into the waiting arms of the soldiers, who had gathered courage with the appearance of two more freelancers. Wash struggled to pull away, swinging against the restraining hands, straining to hit Wyoming who wisely stayed on the floor out of reach.

"Don't go near him again! I know what you did! You and Omega—" Wash abruptly broke off as Tex entered his field of vision.

"What do you mean? Wash, what did you say?"

But both Epsilon and Wash lost it completely. The woman reappeared, talking to them again, and the resulting crash of memory and emotion was too much to handle all at one time. Piercing pain spread from one side of Wash's head to the other, immersing him in agony and chaos. It overwhelmed him until all he could do was scream.

"Wash, what did you say?" Tex was leaning down to look into Wash's face, but he was too far gone. His screaming rose to a fevered pitch that made everyone cringe and then he mercifully blacked out, sagging in the arms of the soldiers.

York shook his head slowly. "Well, at least you didn't have to punch this one." He looked to Tex, expecting at least a small laugh, but Tex just shook her head in aggravation.

"You two get him to the med bay, right now," York directed the soldiers holding Wash, and they quickly hauled him down the hallway.

Tex turned on Wyoming, who was just getting to his feet. "What the hell was that about, Wyoming? What was he saying?"

Wyoming focused on assessing himself for injury. "I don't know. He wasn't making any sense, just babbling nonsense. I wouldn't think too much on it."

Tex refused to let it go. "He mentioned Gamma." She grabbed his arm to stop him leaving. Wyoming turned to her and York found himself tensing, Delta already sounding a warning in his head. The soldiers still watching murmured nervously.

"Yes, but he was hitting _me_. If you ask me, he just can't handle an A.I. Some of us can, some of us can't. He's losing his mind." Wyoming brushed off her hand and left quickly. Tex stared after him.

There was an awkward and tense silence among the remaining occupants of the hall.

"Ok, nothing to see here, folks, move along." York waved away the remaining soldiers hanging nearby, and the crowd quickly began to dissolve. When they were alone, York turned to Tex. "What do you think all that was?"

"He mentioned Gamma and Omega, and that he knew what they did." Tex's tone was contemplative.

"Yeah…and?"

"Omega left my suit last week. I couldn't find him for several hours."

York was so surprised it took him a moment to reply. "Is that…normal?"

"He seems to be the only one that can travel through the radio frequencies. He's tried it several times, but this was the longest he was gone. It's one of the reasons I started pulling him on a regular basis."

"That's…disturbing…"

"Yes it is. What was Wash yelling when you got here?"

"Something about his father, which makes no sense."

Delta suddenly appeared at York's shoulder to correct him. "No, York. He said…our father. He specifically said 'our father.'" York shook his head, already able to see where this was going as Delta continued. "It is a reasonable assumption that he was referring to the Alpha."

"D, I know the Alpha is on your mind a lot, but that doesn't mean that Wash—"

"No, he's right." Tex interrupted quietly. "He said father but he meant creator. Wash's new A.I. seems to be integrating with his mind more than usual."

"What makes you so sure?" York was looking between the two of them, still unconvinced. Tex shook her head at him and nodded toward Delta, who was following the conversation closely.

"Hey, D, sorry…but could you log off for a few minutes? Tex and I need to discuss something…sensitive."

"Does it involve the Alpha?" Delta showed no sign of logging off. York sighed.

"I don't know yet, D. But could you give us a few? I promise I'll tell you if it's anything you should know."

Delta considered it, knowing that York could just give him a command and he would have to comply. "I find your attempts at secrecy confusing, considering I am in your head. But I will trust you."

"Thanks, D." Delta disappeared in a flash of green light.

* * *

 _ **I always wanted to see how exactly York and Tex compared notes and got on the same page. This feels like to a good start to their partnership. Also, I had a good old time allowing Wash to wallop Wyoming. Delta agreeing to sign off shows the large amount of trust he has in York, Tex opening up to someone else, specifically York, indicates she has realized she needs a team of her own to do what she wants to do, she can't lone wolf it which I think is a great stride for her. Pretty easy to see why when she needed help later in Out of Mind she went right to York again.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading, update coming soon.**_


	4. Chapter 3: Vale Deah

_**Thanks for coming back for more! I know this is all pretty basic stuff known in the story of RvB, but I like to pick out all the little details and nuances of the characters and how exactly it went down. Hope you're enjoying it too.**_

 **Chapter 3: Vale Deah**

Tex and York found a locked janitor closet on a lesser used level and once York picked the lock, secured themselves inside.

"We better be careful of cameras, if we get busted people will think we're involved." York looked at the door nervously.

Tex snorted. "Please, York. That would never happen."

He gave her a slightly offended tip of his helmet. "That's for sure, I already have a lady who can kick my ass…" Tex cocked her head to one side and he quickly realized he was giving out too much information. "I mean, no offense Tex, but you're not my type."

"Oh, believe me York, you're not mine either. Now can we talk about this?"

"Right. Okay. So what do you think is going on around here?"

"I already know what's going on around here, the question is what are we going to do about it?"

There was a slightly awkward pause. "Okay, but I still don't know what's going on."

Tex looked at him. He shrugged. Finally, she breathed an irritated sigh and looked him in the face as they stood visor to visor. "Where do you think they're getting these A.I. from?"

"I…don't know, but I've wondered a lot. Does Omega talk about the Creator like Delta does? He's kind of obsessed with it."

"He thinks about him a lot. And I have to admit, I do now too."

"Well that's normal right? Whatever they think, we think?"

"Yeah. But there's a reason the A.I. are all obsessed with him and can't stop thinking about him. He's the original."

"The original what?"

"The original A.I., Alpha. The only A.I. Project Freelancer was given to run their experiments." She paused, the silence heavy with meaning.

"But lots of us have one…" York's voice trailed off. "Oh no…"

"Yeah."

"But…how did they do it? Isn't that illegal?"

"They tortured him. They're still torturing him. And yes, it is illegal." York looked up at the ceiling, breathing harshly. Tex continued. "And it seems to me like Omega and Gamma have been helping. That must be what Wash was yelling about. That's why I couldn't find him last week. That's where he was."

"That's…" York drew in a heavy breath. "That's sick."

"I can't leave Alpha there. I need to break him out. Will you help me?"

York looked at her and couldn't help picturing Carolina still in the med bay. She would be pissed he was even talking to Tex. But this made that problem look so tiny. They were torturing the Alpha, using his own fragments against him… _fragments_. He felt sick all over again. Even Delta must be—

"I'm in."

When it came down to it, there was no choice to be made. He just hoped it didn't backfire on him.

That thought made him realize he may have trusted too easily. What if this was a trap? Tex _had_ always been the Director's favorite.

Tex was already moving to the next step of the plan. "We need to figure out where he is. Do you think anyone else—"

"Wait," York held up his hand "back up, maybe I'm not in. How do I know I can trust you? I've already been burned once here. I need something to show me this is real, that you're for real." Tex's arms were crossing in that slow way that made him worry about casual violence done to his body, so he hurried to add to his original thought. "Just tell me what changed, Tex. Why did you start pulling Omega? What's different?"

"I am." York's palms came up to demonstrate that wasn't enough. Tex looked away for a moment. "Omega is really strong. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between his thoughts and mine. I've been pulling him, and now I can tell. And just so you know this is on the level, I'm sure you remember the name Allison?"

York almost cringed inside his armor. "Allison? How could I forget? That was the worst pain I'd ever had in my head, and all because of a name…it's like they're obsessed with her more than the Alpha, and it seems like the Director's not far behind. Who is she? Wait…"

"I'm Allison," Tex's voice was quiet and determined.

York stared at her. "That's not enough, everyone heard the Director yell that name, and everyone with an A.I. heard it loud and clear. That's common information. Why should I just believe you?" Tex didn't speak, just kept looking at him as if it would convince him. It took him a few seconds to catch up. He sighed. "Honestly, why did I even ask him to log off…Delta, please log on again." Tex didn't argue and he wondered if that was what she'd been waiting for.

Delta reappeared next to York, alert and ready. York looked at him and waited for Delta to catch up, which didn't take more than a few nanoseconds. "Is it true?"

"I have no memory of such an occurrence. But if what Agent Texas says is true, it's possible I would not."

"Yeah, but is it true?"

Delta pivoted between Tex and York, running calculations. "The facts and figures match, as well as the timing. The fragments already in use are all compartmentalized pieces that would fit a whole personality and thus fit the hypothesis. There is no way to split a healthy human mind without the use of trauma. And A.I. are based on a human mind."

"So it's true." York had already guessed it, already knew it in his gut.

"Based on my calculations of available data, there is a 68% chance Agent Texas is telling the truth."

Tex lifted her hand and both the man and projection jumped back away from it, expecting violence. When none came, a closer look showed them a dog tag on a chain. York made out CT's name before the data file popped out and distracted him.

"D?" Her request was patently obvious to both York and Delta.

Delta accessed it without a word and reappeared in less than a minute. His intent gaze went straight to Tex. "York, I have adjusted the calculations and there is a 99.999% Agent Texas is telling the truth."

"Why not 100 percent?" Tex sounded miffed.

"I have to account for the remote possibility that my databanks are corrupt, and this may not be real." Delta's voice could not have been more matter of fact, which made York smile.

York looked at Tex. "Why didn't you just show me that to start with?"

"Agent Texas needed to know you could be trusted before she took such a chance. She also knew hearing it from me would result in earning your trust faster than showing you herself."

"Well, can't argue with that." York looked Tex up and down, trying to fit all the pieces together. Tex put the dog tags away.

"So you're Allison."

Tex shifted, twitchy at that title. "I'm not the real Allison. She died a long time ago."

"Okay. Why exactly does that matter?"

"I'm…part of the program. Part of Alpha. I'm kind of based on Allison. I'm…I don't know what I am, but she's…I'm…someone Alpha loves."

"The Director loved her," York supplied, remembering his reaction to the match between Tex and Carolina. "But Alpha? How is that possible?"

"For an A.I. to have feelings for someone else? They're based on a human mind, York. Humans love all the time."

"Well, not all the time…" York drifted off at the look she gave him, even if he couldn't see through her visor. "But okay, I guess I can understand that. Oh man, does that mean Alpha is based on the Dir—"

"Yes. But that's not the important part right now. What's important is that I need is a way to get to Alpha. I'm going to break him out and leave with him, and…" Tex paused, well aware of what she'd told him the first time they met. Her voice lowered as if admitting weakness. "I need some help. You still in?"

York remembered how disturbed Delta had been when he was first implanted, confused and anxious. He remembered how the anxiety still never went away, how Delta was always running plans and figures in his head, like something bad was coming. But it looked the something bad had already happened. He thought about North walking the hall to soothe Theta, Wash yelling at Gamma. Even now Delta was running possible escape routes for the Alpha and wondering where he was.

"I'm still in. D, command. Do not tell anyone about this. No one."

"Acknowledged." Delta's tone indicated it was a foregone conclusion, but having the security made both of them feel better.

"Good. Then I won't have to threaten either of you to keep quiet." Tex's voice was grim and sugary sweet at the same time, and even though they were on the same side, it was unnerving.

* * *

After making plans to quietly do some reconnaissance work and possible recruiting for their mission, Tex and York parted ways. York headed back to the med bay, where Carolina was arguing with a medic about leaving.

"Agent, we don't have medical clearance to let you leave, you can't—"

"I'm not going to spend the night here when I feel perfectly fine. Now let me go or I'll go through you—"

York hurried in. "Heey, Carolina, don't give the guy a hard time, one more night won't hurt you. You've been out for days and we just want to make sure there's nothing wrong—"

"There _is_ nothing wrong, York. I'm leaving. I need a shower, some decent food and a training session and I'm not waiting until tomorrow!" Her voice was just a shade lower than yelling. She was already holding her helmet under her arm, green eyes staring both York and the medic down as they blocked her way out.

York heaved a sigh. Lord help him, he never could deny her anything. He turned to the very fidgety and nervous medic. "Look, she seems okay and she certainly sounds okay. You know where to find her if you need to run some tests, she knows where to find you if she has problems, and don't you guys have a new patient to worry about? How's Wash, has he come around yet?"

"What? Wash is in here? Is he okay?" Carolina looked between the two, suddenly much more interested in joining the conversation.

York nodded. "Yeah, he had some kind of weird episode with his A.I. Attacked Wyoming, got in a few good hits before we pulled him off. Then he started screaming and passed out."

"Is he all right? Did he wake up?"

The medic looked between Carolina and York for a moment, trying to decide which question to answer first. "Umm, Agent Washington was brought in. He's unconscious but doesn't seem to be in danger. We'll let you know when he comes around. And…" After looking at Carolina he chose to avoid the hard stare coming at him and address York instead. "You need to promise you'll keep an eye on her and bring her back if there's anything that concerns you at all."

Carolina put her helmet on as York gave him a solemn nod. "Of course I will. Don't worry about a thing." He held out his arm in front of the medic, clearing a way for Carolina to pass through, which she promptly did. Once they were out in the corridor he adopted a light and cheery tone. It belied the sick feeling still remaining in his gut that had formed the moment he learned the truth about the Alpha. "So, what do you want first, a shower or food? Please don't say training session."

Carolina tipped her helmet in the way that told him he'd just made her smile. That warm feeling that always followed her smile, every single time, spread through his chest and made him feel better.

"Shower. Then food. Then training."

"So, the medic said to keep an eye on you…" York's tone was instantly playful and suggestive.

"York…"

But her helmet tipped again. York decided he could take this evening for himself before starting on the treasonous plan he and Tex had going. He wondered how Carolina would react if she knew who he was working with. Surely she would understand? It was the right thing to do.

Oh man, this was going to bite him in the end. Wasn't it?

York's voice echoed in his head. _Probability: 85%._

 _Thanks D._

* * *

Because it was so late, the showers were empty which was exactly what York was hoping for. Carolina was already shedding armor pieces, shrugging them off with easy, languid movements. She gave him an equally languid, confident smile. The worry and stress of seeing her unconscious for days melted away as he got to see her smile for real and it flowed over him like warm sunlight. He started shedding armor too and wrapped his arms around her from behind, both now in just their Kevlar suits. She turned in his arms and relaxed into his body, arms raising to curve around his neck. He lowered his face to her neck and breathed in the scent of her. No matter how crazy things got in Project Freelancer, they never had any problems in this area. Not since the day she grabbed his lighter in Club Errera.

Delta had long ago logged off to give them some privacy per their normal routine, but his last words were still ringing in York's head as he tried to ignore them. He buried his face into the curve of her shoulder and held her closer, as if trying to merge them into one.

 _Probability: 85%..._

* * *

 _ **In case the chapter titles make no sense, they are actually pulled from Trocadero song titles (I bet some of you figured it out!) and each one has some kind of connection to what's happening in the chapter in a big or small way. This one is Vale Deah, which is about a couple meeting in a bar. It harkens back to Carolina and York's first meeting at the club, and captures the softer moment between them that is the calm before the storm. York tends to put on a laid back persona even when things are bothering him, while Carolina is in the relationship but not wholly invested in it. She's held back a little, safe behind her walls and they have physical intimacy but less emotional intimacy. They have a nice moment**.  
_

 _ **Also, writing Delta always kind of delights me. Thanks for reading.**_


	5. Chapter 4: Space Invader

_**If you came back for more, thank you! Sorry it was a bit longer before this update, life was busy.**_

 _ **But seriously, it doesn't really feel like many people are hanging on every update lol.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading! :)**_

 **Chapter 4: Space Invader  
**

It only took until the next morning for everyone in Wash's team to know what happened the night before. Some details were forgotten or misinterpreted, but the fact that Wash was still unconscious in the med bay was proof enough for all to believe it. Wash had gone crazy and attacked Wyoming for no reason. Murmured conversations and concerned questions about the A.I. and what seemed to be the rapidly increasing problems coming with them were the topic of the day.

North and York spent some time sitting with Wash, but his condition didn't change. They chatted over his bed, helmetless and casual as they both tried to pretend they weren't actually concerned. They were somewhat surprised when Tex flitted in and out of the med bay, but her usual curt manner was expected. Carolina checked in on him before heading to the training room.

There was a brief second of tension when the two crossed paths, Carolina on her way in and Tex heading out, that put everyone present except the unconscious Wash on high alert. Carolina tried to push in past Tex without a word but Tex didn't move aside and seemed about to say something. Carolina's helmet was off and everyone could see the glare she leveled at Tex's expressionless visor. The two stared each other down. York twitched in his chair and half rose from it, mouth open as if to say something. Tex's helmet shifted toward him for the briefest of moments before she left. York relaxed back into his chair. Carolina stood glaring into the hallway for a moment before she approached Wash's bedside.

"Still no change?" Carolina stood next to the bed and looked Wash up and down. York had to marvel at her composure, her complete ability to act professional with him considering that their time together last night had been anything but. Carolina could compartmentalize better than anyone he knew, at least when it came to relationships. It was something York mildly admired but secretly wished didn't exist.

"No, nothing new." North looked around for Theta, who had just been visible messing with his skateboard a moment ago. Theta peeked out from behind his shoulder and disappeared in a blink of light.

Carolina didn't notice, she was looking at York. "What was that?"

York suddenly wished for his helmet and cursed himself for leaving it in his room. His one good eye widened, all innocent confusion. "What was what?"

"I could have sworn you and Tex had a moment there," Carolina said bluntly, her tone seeping betrayal. York quickly abandoned his plan to talk to her and North about what was going on in Project Freelancer. It just wasn't the right time.

"I was just going to try to make peace between you two if it got to that. Glad I didn't have to." York stretched in his chair and went for a casual air, but Delta didn't seem to think it was working. York conceded he might be right once Carolina's fingers turned to fists.

"'Make peace?'" Her eyes flashed. "You wouldn't jump in and try to help me like you did her?"

North bounded to his feet as if ejected from his chair, clearly wishing he wasn't there. "Hey, uhhh, I better go check on my sister. See you guys later."

He hustled out the door and down the hallway, leaving York and Carolina facing off with Wash still between them. York stood up to put them on the same level.

"That was different, they were using live ammo. And I would think you'd be pissed at me for getting in between you two, you have a thing for taking her on by yourself."

Carolina didn't move, but her eyes flickered for a moment. York took a chance and pressed his point. "Look, Carolina…do you ever think that maybe this rivalry between you two has gone a bit too far? She's part of our team."

"She is _not_ part of our team! She's only out for herself, to be the best. She _turned_ on this team!" Carolina's voice was starting to rise to a shout before she abruptly lowered it to a screaming whisper with a look toward Wash. York stared at her.

"What happened with you two on that mission? How did CT get away?"

A beat of silence swelled as Carolina's face made her internal struggle obvious. Eventually, she just gritted her teeth. "That's need to know, York. I've been ordered not to talk about it."

"Okay, fine. But Carolina, I think she's more on our side than you realize. If you would just try—"

"That's not going to happen, York. Don't trust her. I don't, and for good reason." She turned on her heel and threw parting words over her shoulder. "I'm going to the training room."

York stared after her. Delta appeared next to his head.

"I am not always good at judging emotions, York, but I think now would be a bad time to tell Carolina you're working with Agent Texas."

"You think?"

"Perhaps the best course of action would be to acquire proof of the Director's crimes and use that to convince Carolina to help."

York blew out a long breath and let his head drop back. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe that will work."

"You have doubts?"

York headed out to watch Carolina train. "I just know how hard it is to change your beliefs, D. Even with proof."

"Shouldn't undeniable facts make that an easier process?"

"It should…just one of the things that makes us human I guess."

* * *

Carolina was deep into a training session by the time York arrived and didn't notice him take his usual place on the observation deck. She was too busy trying to wrestle with two competing A.I. in her head, each attempting to advise and compute different strategies. They didn't seem to work together well, in fact each seemed to be trying to override the other.

She settled on some targets for hand-to-hand combat first, and for a moment the chaos seemed to get better. She was good at hand-to-hand to start with, she needed the outlet for her anger after talking to York, and it required less help from her A.I. After half an hour Eta and Iota seemed to realize she couldn't possibly listen to both of them at the same time and began to back off.

She was practicing a new move she'd been working on (jump, spiral twist and kick) when Iota's whispering began to get louder again. Carolina tried to focus on it like York had said, and as she did it became clear enough to make out words and impressions. _Left, hold, move now, hold, adjust your footing on the landing._ It was the strangest feeling because it wasn't just a voice in her head now, it was deeper. Almost an impulse to follow, a gut instinct that came before her own. York had told her to trust it and that didn't come easy for her, but she tried to simply follow it and let Iota in.

She was rewarded with the warm blossoming feeling of accomplishment as she shattered the dummy she was working against and stuck the landing. It felt good. But as always, it felt too good to last.

Carolina could feel the A.I. evaluating. Iota was delighted with her progress, but was also wondering if she really had it in her to be better than Tex. Maybe she'd never be on top again…never really have her father's acceptance. After all he couldn't even remember his own daughter's name sometimes…he'd called her Allison at the disastrous match, and not for the first time. Allison… he was obsessed with a dead woman. He had been her whole life. And why was he so worried about her taking on Texas, did he really think she'd get hurt by that traitorous favorite of his? He had no faith in her, he didn't believe in her…

Carolina snapped out of her thoughts (her thoughts?) and found she had attempted another spin kick but tried to spin two different directions at the same time. She landed with a painful thud on the training room floor, realizing that she had let Iota in and Eta had followed. Both were chattering at her now, one with damage control ideas and the other with dire statistics of knee injuries and chances of death that came with the move she'd just failed. She shook her head, unable to clear it, and that was when she realized she was being observed.

Above her behind the glass York was sitting with his feet up watching her like he often did. The director stood just to his left with his usual shadow the Counselor standing in the back of the room. As she watched Tex approached them and stood on York's right. All four were silent and watchful, creating the feeling that they were just waiting for her to fail.

Behind the glass, the Director gave Tex a sidelong glance. "You don't usually watch others practice, Agent Texas. Why the sudden interest?"

"Just keeping an eye on the competition, sir." Tex crossed her arms and focused on Carolina, sounding superbly casual with just enough concern about her ranking on the list. York, still lounging in his chair, was studiously resisting the temptation to look at her as he stared through the glass too. The Director gave them both a considering glance and then faced forward as well.

Carolina stalked to the center of the room, still smarting from the aborted match with Tex that made her look weak. For the first time in her life, she was uncomfortable to be the focus of attention while training. The fight with York didn't help, in fact it just pushed her over the edge and made her reckless.

"F.I.L.S.S., start a motion sensor round."

York sat up in his chair suddenly, his feet hitting the floor. "Motion—that exercise uses real bullets. Is that a good idea?" The Director said nothing, implacable behind his glasses. Tex took another step toward the glass as she thought it over.

"She should be okay, if she uses her A.I. to boost her speed enhancement and adaptive camouflage. The motion sensors can't track her if she's not moving and her armor is the same color as the walls."

"Still…" York nervously rose from his chair to get a better look.

Two turret guns rose out of the floor and focused on Carolina, who was already bouncing on the balls of her feet ready to go.

"Beginning round," F.I.L.S.S. intoned. The turrets opened fire.

It only took thirty seconds for Carolina to realize she was in way over her head. Her A.I. were boosting her speed, but since both were working at it the speed was almost too much for her. She was going too fast, bullets were spraying everywhere around her, and the extra voices in her head created such chaos she couldn't collect her thoughts. She tried to pay attention to them so they could guide her as she ran up one side and across the arena, but still felt a tug on a shoulder piece that meant she'd been grazed by a bullet. She raced down the side, hit the floor and blurted "Camouflage!" out loud because she couldn't focus enough to try to communicate in her head. Eta attempted to run it at the same time Iota told her to move. Unable to think straight, she obeyed and ruined the effect so that the turret sensed her motion and continued to fire. A bullet caught her assault rifle and knocked it out of her hands, another whizzed past her ear. She pulled her pistol and ducked to one side in a clumsy roll, then got to her feet. The turrets immediately turned to focus on her.

 _"_ _Run!" screeched Eota._

 _"_ _Don't move!" yelled Iota._

Carolina snapped.

"Stop! Stop the round F.I.L.S.S.! Stop the round!"

The turrets paused in mid-aim and dropped on their metal posts, then folded back into the training room floor.

"Canceling round."

F.I.L.S.S.'s voice rang in her ears. Never, not once, had she ever stopped a round once it began. She always finished, she always pushed through to the end with single-minded focus. Shame crept in as she stood breathing heavily on the floor, and it was several seconds before she looked up at the observing area to see what the reaction of her audience was.

The Director was looking down at her, his disappointment clear only in the turn of his mouth. Then he turned and walked away, just like he had most of her life. The Counselor trailed behind him.

Carolina swallowed thickly, refusing to let the hurt show. She looked at York. She needed him right now, needed him to be the one right thing when everything else was so wrong. She always tried not to need people, to be okay on her own. But for once, just this time, she needed him there to lean on. Her eyes begged him behind the visor she didn't dare remove. She couldn't be weak in front of Tex again.

York's clear distress had shown when he lurched forward just before the round was canceled, both hands pressed against the glass. But before Carolina collected herself enough to look up he had stepped back and tried to look unconcerned. Carolina never seemed to like it when he was overly worried or protective. She'd held him at arm's length since the day they met despite his clear indications that he wanted more. He was okay with that, he'd take what he could get, but it made times like this difficult when all he wanted to do was go to her.

Tex lowered her head to avoid looking at Carolina's low moment and murmured behind him. "We need to find out where Alpha is being held. We need to plan our next move." She turned and left, clearly expecting him to follow.

York hesitated. Carolina was looking up at him, but her visor gave him no hint of how she was feeling. Probably angry. When things like this happened, she liked to be left alone to lick her wounds and she never wanted reassurance or encouragement. She was probably glaring at him right now, wanting him to leave her alone.

"Okay," he whispered, half to himself and half to her. "Okay." He reluctantly turned and left too.

But all Carolina saw was York turn his back and walk away, leaving her alone with the voices in her head.

* * *

The Director stared at the leader board. Tex was on top, which was nothing new. Carolina was directly below her.

"Sir, should I update the board?" The Counselor was poised to lower Carolina's ranking.

The Director hesitated. "All right, Counselor. But it won't be for long. She'll adapt and overcome. It's what she does."

The Counselor tapped on his tablet, and Carolina was brought down to number three. York moved up to the second position.

The Director considered the results. "Good. She'll push herself harder now, and that will keep her safe."

The Counselor gave him a doubtful look. "If you say so, sir."

* * *

Tex led York to an empty classroom on one of the lower levels and closed the door behind them. She went straight to a console and inserted the data stick, then began navigating to a particular file. York was still by the door, lost in thought.

"There," Tex pulled up the file she was looking for. She looked up. "York, you okay?"

York pulled his thoughts away from Carolina and focused on the mission. "Yeah, I'm fine. What've we got?"

Tex scrolled through the file. "There's a lot of data in here, but it doesn't tell us where Alpha is specifically being held on the Mother of Invention."

"Why not? Shouldn't that be a priority?"

"It wasn't for Connie. She thought she'd be giving this information to a higher authority that could put a stop to it and prosecute the Director. She wasn't looking to free him herself. She left this for me in case she didn't make it."

York gave her a sideways look. "Did she? Make it?"

Tex stared down at the console, avoiding his gaze. It was enough to tell York he probably didn't want to know the answer. York voiced his next thought aloud.

"Why don't we just get this information to the right people and let them handle—"

"No!" Tex's fist pounded the console. "I want him out of there. They are torturing him now, they are fragmenting him now! We'll burn this place down once he's out, we'll destroy everything the Director ever touched, but he is our first priority—"

"Okay, okay," York's voice was as soothing as he could make it without actively sounding patronizing, since he was sure that would get him punched. He had both hands in the air to signal defeat. "That's fine. Let's get him out. Then we decide where else we go, no problem." Tex was staring at the console, but it looked as if she was trying to calm down so he took that as a good sign.

"Good. Thank you," Tex sounded as if the words were being pulled out of her. York appreciated the effort.

"Ok, so how do we find him?"

Tex had scrolled to the bottom of the file and pointed to the line of numbers there. "I know these numbers, it's a location code for one of the servers in the data room. That must be where Connie copied it from."

"We had to come all the way down here for you to tell me that? You couldn't mention it upstairs?"

"I know where the room is, and I also know how secure it is. What I don't know is how Connie got in. None of us have the clearance for the data room. But if this is where Connie got information on the Director's crimes, there's a good chance Alpha's location is listed there too. We need to get back in there. That's what we need to figure out."

"Oh. Okay then. So where is this room?"

Tex brought up a blueprint schematic of the MOI and pointed to a room deep in the secure level where the Director spent most of his time. It took up most of one level and had a myriad of rooms attached, none of which were named on the blueprint. "It's there. Just inside the secure area doors, first room."

"Well that's just great. How many guards?"

"Actually, not many. Two at the door, nothing but motion sensors and some cameras inside the actual room. No one works in there, it's just a storage facility."

York was frowning at the multiple rows of servers in the room, and the motion sensor dots at the end of each row. "How could she possibly get in there alone? Any motion will bring the camera around to look at her. Was she working with anyone?"

"Not that I know of. But a two-man team might be able to get in and out unobserved if one triggers the camera to move so the other can slip through the blind spot —" Tex stopped mid-sentence, prompting York to look up.

"What?"

"Her equipment. Holographic projection. She used herself to get in."

Delta emerged, already up to date. "That is an excellent possibility. Agent Connecticut used her self-projection to divert the guards at the front. She also would have used it to draw the attention of the motion sensor cameras so she could move in the blind spots and access the information unobserved."

York made an impressed sound. "Okay, that was brilliant."

"She turned the enhancements the project gave her against them," Tex's tone was filled with begrudging respect.

York crossed his arms, deep in thought. "I think we can work out something along the same lines with a few changes. Let's get to work."

* * *

That afternoon York headed to the mess hall for lunch. Immediately he could sense the different vibe as he walked down the hallway, noting how random soldiers looked at him and whispered to each other as he passed. He had a moment of panic at the idea that somehow everyone knew about him and Tex working together, that he was minutes away from being arrested or killed. But that thought turned to confusion as North slapped him on the back.

"Nice, York. Way to go."

"What?"

"Haven't you seen the leader board?" North pointed to the board, always on prominent display everywhere including the mess hall. York was in the second position.

"No, that has to be some kind of mistake…Carolina should be there…" York scanned the room for her. North seemed to read his thoughts.

"She's not here."

"Where is she?"

"C'mon man, you have to ask that?"

York nodded. Of course, he already knew where she was. Even though the smell of food was very enticing, he immediately left for the training room.

The observation deck was empty when he entered it, but he could hear the sounds of targets being taken out one by one. He could also hear her ragged breathing. She'd been there a long time. York stood at the glass and watched her, but it took several moments before he noticed what was different.

Carolina wasn't fighting as effectively as she always had the entire time he'd known her. She was…slower, hesitating on moves she'd mastered long ago, starting one move and switching to another partway through. She didn't seem like herself at all. As he watched, she faltered and missed the last target entirely.

"Delta?"

Delta immediately appeared next to him. "Yes, York?"

"Was I like that during our first training sessions?"

"No, according to my data on your training sessions, you improved by 13% immediately after implantation."

"Why is Carolina suddenly worse?"

"Carolina has been implanted with two A.I. While it's possible she can benefit from both, it's more likely she is experiencing difficulty as she attempts to integrate with more than one."

"That makes sense." York left the observation deck and moved to the lower floor to the training room. He kept his distance when he entered to give Carolina a chance to notice him and finish her current round. According to Delta it took her 23% longer than it usually did. When she was finally done she didn't start another round right away, which York took as indication that she had seen him arrive. She paced in a circle, breathing hard, and stopped when he was close enough to speak.

"Hey," York was supremely aware of the lameness of his greeting, but considering he felt like he was standing next to a powder keg it seemed appropriate to tread lightly. "Umm, you want to get some lunch?"

Her shoulders were rising and falling with her hard breathing, the light glinting off her visor made it seem more opaque than usual. "Not hungry."

"Yeah, but you need your strength to practice this hard. Come on, just a little something…"

"I said no," Carolina came back sharply. York nodded, having expected that.

"Look, Carolina, I'm sorry about…the leader board." She turned away immediately at those words, but he touched her arm to keep her from leaving. "It's not what I wanted."

"Doesn't matter, I'll get back on top." She flicked her arm to throw off his hand. He let it fall.

"I know you will. But maybe, maybe it's a good idea if you give one of your A.I. up and just work with the other for a while. You might get better results."

"No. I'm keeping them both. I'll make it work. F.I.L.S.S., start again." She turned away as lit circles appeared around her. Since York was standing so close, one of them was directly in front of him and lent the appearance that he was wearing it on his armor. Carolina assumed her start position and waited for him to move. He didn't.

"I just don't think two A.I. are good for you. It's obvious you're struggling. That's why you're down a spot now, not because I did anything to earn it."

Carolina made an angry noise. "F.I.L.S.S. start the round." She kicked one behind her and punched another next to it. York didn't move.

"These things can really mess up your head, you saw what happened to Wash." Another target turned red, and then another. Carolina was steadily eliminating every target but the one he was standing behind. "I don't really care about the leader board, but I do care about you." She kicked the one next to him, and the one on the other side. "I just want what's best for you." Her foot came within an inch of the last target before she stopped and slowly lowered it.

"Don't do that, York. Don't go soft. Hit me with everything you've got, I can take it. I can beat it!" Even as she spoke she shook her head slightly, as if trying to dispel inner thoughts or the chattering of an A.I. "I can!"

The round was still in progress, and the only target left was the one York stood behind. He made a sound of defeat and stood back, allowing her to take it out.

"Round finished," the voice of F.I.L.S.S. echoed through the training room. York and Carolina stood looking at each other, now separated by several feet. For a moment it almost felt like she wanted him to physically attack her so she could prove herself. If she did, he wasn't going to.

"Okay. I'll be in the mess hall if you need me."

She said nothing in reply, so he turned and left. He wondered if she knew he had always been soft on her. Not in practice or on missions, she earned her place on the leaderboard all on her own. But in every other respect he was a marshmallow for her. He liked to watch her train, he'd never left her in the hospital bay, he always tried to be there for her even if she didn't want him to be. He wondered who in her life had held her to such high standards, who had taught her that she could only ever rely on herself. Who had left her with so many walls that it was impossible to break through.

He'd sure like a word with that person.

* * *

 _ **Clearly Carolina having 2 A.I. is a difficulty, as Delta mentioned in Reconstruction. In addition, the fact that Eta is Alpha's fear adds extra stress to her, and you can see Eta's fear/thought processes start to manifest themselves in Carolina's thoughts without her even realizing it. She has never felt good enough in her father's eyes, and now that quality is becoming amplified through Eta and the fact that she dropped a rank trying to deal with 2 A.I. As usual, she simply determines to work harder and overcome it, but there's only so much she can do this time.**_

 _ **The Director is an odd little puzzle. I've come to the conclusion that he does love his daughter, but has horrible difficulty expressing it after the loss of his wife. He doesn't see her as a replacement for Allison and his love for Allison always comes first. He loves Carolina, but it's frozen behind a wall of reserve and has been since she was a child. Instead, he holds her to high standards, drives her to continually be better and better in the vain hope it will keep her safe in a dangerous world. Unfortunately, it just leaves her as walled off and damaged as him. I love Carolina, she's a wonderful imperfect and very real character to me.**_

 _ **I am of the firm opinion that CT used her holographic projection equipment to obtain the information she gave to Tex, because I highly doubt that stuff was just laying around barely secured for her to sign in and obtain. It would have been under high security due to its incriminating nature. CT is one of several characters gone too soon, she had great possibilities.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading, I appreciate any feedback. Hopefully the next update won't take as long. :)**_


	6. Chapter 5: No One

_**Sorry it's taken so long to update, but I haven't dropped this story, I promise. Thanks for coming back! :)**_

 **Chapter 6: No One  
**

The next few days passed quickly. Wash stayed unconscious. Carolina continued to train and made little progress. York and Tex pushed forward with their planning to locate Alpha. Nothing seemed to resolve between anyone as the team moved around each other but rarely together. The showers were a distant memory for York as he tried to break through Carolina's stiff reserve and was rebuffed.

 _Hey…can you hear me?_

Carolina trained, slept, trained, ate, and trained.

 _I'm trying to talk to you._

North tried to hold Theta and his sister together.

 _Um, sorry I freaked out._

Tex thought of nothing but getting to Alpha.

 _We need to put our heads together…_

 _"_ _Well, actually our heads are already kinda together. We just need to talk…or communicate…or something." There was an awkward pause. "Gah I don't know what to do…"_

 _A flash of memory, the Director and Counselor both standing over him, their gazes intent, sharp like a scalpel. "How do I know why he can do that? Maybe he just really likes Agent Texas. It's not my fault!"_

 _Pain…_

 _"_ _No, no, no. Keep it together. Wash. Wash, come on man. I need you to wake up I'm going nuts here."_

Wash stirred, his mind just starting to surface. The sound in his head increased.

 _"_ _Oh hey, are you waking up? C'mon we gotta figure something out. We gotta get moving."_

"What…what'reyoutalkinbout?" Wash's slurred speech sounded raspy and weak.

 _"_ _Hey no, don't start talking out loud, we're screwed if anyone hears you! Are you trying to get us caught?"_

Wash held in an audible groan with difficulty and tried again. _What?_

 _"_ _There ya go, knew you could do it. How're you feeling, you all right?"_

 _"_ _I guess…I don't remember all of—"_

Wait. Yes he did. He remembered everything. All the torture, Epsilon, Wyoming, Gamma… He could feel his muscles tensing, his guard slamming into place, every one of his senses suddenly on the alert for danger.

Epsilon stirred in his head. _"Ah, yeah, I figured that would come back to you. Sorry about that."_

But Wash had a more pressing question on his mind. _"How are you…talking to me?"_

Epsilon caught the drift immediately. _"You mean without having to resort to memories? I don't know, when I—we freaked out that last time, it was almost like I needed that to be able to function better, like discharging an electric shock or something."_

Wash considered that as he mentally viewed Epsilon. _"That doesn't make sense."_

Epsilon growled in frustration. _"I didn't say I understood it all, I'm just saying when I came online again you were out, and I felt better than before. I spent some time in here by myself and I think was able to…I don't know, study some of your language skills, or something, some other things, and after a while I could string words and thoughts together without using memories to do it."_

There was a small part of Wash's mind that thought there was something slightly evasive about Epsilon's answer and wanted to pursue it. But instead the phrase "after a while" caught his full attention. " _Wait, how long was I out?"_

Epsilon made the A.I. equivalent of shuffling his feet. _"About five days."_

"What?!" Wash exclaimed out loud, his eyes popping open at the same time. Not even Epsilon's hasty shushing inside his head could dissuade him from becoming fully conscious and alerting everyone in the room to it as well.

"Hey, he's awake! How you feeling, Wash?" North was sitting next to him and now stood to get a better view. "We were worried about you."

 _Oh here we go, I wanted to get our plan straight first…_

Epsilon's grumbling was so loud it took Wash a moment to reply. "Hey, North. What happened?"

Epsilon snorted in his head. _"Like you don't know…"_

Wash gave him the mental image of a quelling look. _"It's better if we don't know anything."_

 _"_ _Yeah, yeah,"_ Epsilon was better at putting words together, but Wash could still sense the small and terrified A.I. he had been before.

"Well, you had some kind of episode, like a mental break," North's voice was softer than usual and somewhat soothing, as if he didn't want to provoke a savage beast. Wash had to restrain himself from telling him to knock it off; playing clueless was more important.

"I did?" Wash injected the words with an appropriate amount of confusion to indicate he had no memory of the event. "What did I do?"

"You went nuts on Wyoming, pounded him a few times." North gave him a close look. "You don't remember that?"

"No, can't say that I do…" Wash let the words drift off. It wasn't a technical lie, actually. He couldn't say he did without inviting more questions and letting on that he knew much more than he was letting on. He could feel Epsilon's approval in his head.

"Well I'm glad you're awake now—"

"So are we, Agent Washington."

The Director was striding into the room with the Counselor close on his heels. Wash could feel the jolt that was Epsilon briefly panicking before he pulled himself together.

 _Don't panic, don't panic, they still don't know anything._

At that moment Wash couldn't have said whether that thought was actually his or Epsilon's, but it didn't matter just then because the Director and Counselor approached both sides of his bed, prompting North to shift out of that area.

There was a moment of silence where Wash felt as if he was being visually dissected. Then the Counselor aimed a look at the other occupant of the room. "Please excuse us, North."

"Ah. Right. Ok, talk to you later, Wash." North sidled to the door. Wash gave him a brief wave before turning back to face the duo that he could only call his interrogators right now. Both were focused on him yet again with cutting intensity.

"How do you feel, Agent Washington?"

"Fine. Just fine."

"Do you remember what happened after you left my office?"

"Not really. It's like I've blanked that out. Don't remember much. Did I really attack Wyoming?"

"Yes, you did. You don't know why?"

"No idea."

"Perhaps Epsilon could shed some light on that particular subject." The Director finally spoke, eliciting a small jump from Wash. The Counselor had dominated his attention completely, he hadn't realized the Director was following the conversation so closely.

 _They're double teaming you! Believe me, I know what it looks like. Keep your guard up!_

Wash gave his head a tiny shake to clear it, and also to get Epsilon back on task. "Of course, sir. Epsilon?"

Epsilon appeared so suddenly Wash was taken aback. Despite the fact that Wash could still feel the tremor of fear coming off him, Epsilon showed no sign of it.

"Hey Director, what's up?"

"Ah, Epsilon. You look much better than the last time I saw you." The Director's eyes practically drilled into the A.I.'s form, as if he could see his inner code. Wash felt a sudden thrill of nervous adrenaline shoot down his spine.

"Thank you, I feel much better. Took a bit to get up and running, I guess."

"You guess? A.I. do not guess, Epsilon. What is the square root of two thousand four hundred and sixty-four?"

Epsilon didn't miss a beat. "Forty-nine point six three eight six nine four five eight four—"

By now the Director had glanced at the Counselor for confirmation and after consulting his tablet the other man nodded. The director held up a hand. "Thank you, Epsilon. Calculate the appropriate angle to shoot out that monitor in the front room." The Director gestured to a monitor barely visible through the doorway to the room at an impossible angle from where Wash and Epsilon were on the bed. Epsilon calculated and projected light to mime shooting a bullet at a shallow enough angle to bounce it off a nearby light fixture and then into the center of the screen. The Director waited while the Counselor moved to the doorway to check and nodded back to him.

The questions kept coming, and Epsilon answered each one perfectly.

"Calculate the slip space rupture for travel to the nearest planet at this very moment…What is the rampancy theory?...How many bullets can a DMR fire in 2.2 seconds?...What is the average running speed of our top Freelancer team?...How many states make up the United States of America?"

"Fifty."

"Very good, Epsilon. What happened in the hallway five days ago?"

It was a classic technique even Wash recognized, rapid fire questions to put Epsilon off his guard so he'd be less prepared when the real question landed.

But five days was a long time for an A.I., and despite the emotions Wash could feel being held back Epsilon seemed to be in a much better place than before. He was nervous, but he wasn't terrified. He was almost calm in an eerie way. Wash wasn't quite sure what to make of it but at the moment he was grateful for it. Epsilon was even managing to meet the Director's eyes as he answered the latest question.

"I really don't know. There was some kind of algorithm malfunction, like some kinda code error or something. Some of the data is corrupt so I don't have complete answers for you, but it looks like Wash and I accidentally viewed one of the team as an enemy. I'm sorry, I know it's not good enough." Wash averted his eyes to avoid giving away his admiration at Epsilon remembering to include that little phrase. Epsilon continued. "I've updated and corrected all my algorithms, I'll keep trying so it won't be a problem again."

Wash could see the two men trade looks, and it was clear to him that they didn't entirely buy Epsilon's answer but had no way to challenge it without giving away their illegal actions. Epsilon, to his credit, didn't even twitch. Wash followed suit.

What was probably a brief moment of silence felt like an hour to both Wash and Epsilon, then the Director turned to the Counselor. "I want a complete scan of his systems, make sure he's fully functional."

Epsilon balked. "Hey, I said I was just fine! We're ready to get our enhancement and start working with it. Let's get moving."

Wash spoke at almost the same time. "We're fine now, Director, no need for testing."

The Director gave them both a look that instantly quelled their objections. "There will be no discussion about this. It is crucial that you be in full functioning order, Epsilon, and it is our responsibility to make sure you are. Agent Washington, you will receive a full workup to make sure you haven't suffered any adverse effects from this incident. That is an order."

"Yes, sir…" Wash and Epsilon replied at the same time, in exact unison.

If they both hadn't been so aware that this might be the end for them, maybe they would have noticed it.

* * *

Mercifully, it was decided that Epsilon could be evaluated without being removed from Wash's implant site, so both underwent testing and procedures at the same time. Separately, Wash wasn't sure they could have made it through. In fact, sometimes they worked together so well that Wash wasn't sure who was pulling the reins.

Together they were able to lean on each other when testing got too close to the secrets they were hiding, enabling them to successfully navigate the danger zones.

Wash's answers to his psych eval were textbook perfect, so on point that Wash wondered if Epsilon was guiding him somehow. He certainly had never spent time researching or learning them. Nevertheless, they flowed out of his mouth with ease. The Counselor looked almost annoyed behind his usual unruffled demeanor. He probably suspected Wash of playing him but couldn't prove it. Wash savored that small victory.

When Epsilon's turn came, Wash found his mind drifting away as the diagnostic device was attached to his implantation site. He'd intended to be there to help Epsilon since it was crucial that he make sure his code reflected none of the signs that he might have memories of Alpha, but instead he found himself remembering his childhood. Much as he loved his sisters, he didn't miss having to fight for the chance to talk at the dinner table…

"Agent Washington?" The technician was detaching the diagnostic device. Wash had no idea how much time had passed.

"What? Yeah, I'm here. Everything okay with Epsilon?" He held his breath.

The technician consulted his data pad. "Nothing of note, a few algorithms and codes have variations but nothing outside parameters. Many of the other fragments differ from each other that way too."

Epsilon projected next to Wash's head to gloat for a moment. "See? Told you I was fine."

The technician nodded and told them to wait in the main medical bay until they were cleared. Wash went in and sat down on a medical bed. Agent Maine was in the bay as well, seated on a bed while a medic tried to figure out his headaches. Wash observed absently, since he had nothing better to do.

The medic was consulting his data pad after pulling bio readouts from Maine's helmet. "Do you want to remove your helmet, sir? We can check for possible problems, have a look at your pupils…"

Sigma appeared immediately. Wash felt a spike of rage similar to the one he'd felt on seeing Wyoming and Gamma but managed to keep himself in check. "Agent Maine politely refuses your offer. He would like to keep his helmet on at this time."

Maine shook his head and made a motion to remove his helmet, but suddenly stopped. The medic and Wash watched, confused. Eventually after a small pause Maine's hands lowered to the bed again. The medic fidgeted a moment and when nothing else was said left to see what else he could test for. Sigma turned his attention Wash's way.

"Agent Washington, it's good to see you up and around. Do you know what happened to cause such an abnormal occurrence?"

Wash stared at him, unable to shake the feeling that he was being interrogated by the Director again. Finally he formed a response. "No, I don't. Epsilon said something about corrupt data and a failed algorithm. We're fine now."

Sigma's intense stare seemed to add extra heat to his gaze. "Really? What an unfortunate occurrence. To my knowledge we have never had such an incident before. Are you sure Epsilon is fully functional?"

Wash opened his mouth to reply but never managed to. Epsilon popped up in front of him, his form pulsing with barely contained rage.

"Don't worry, Sigma," Epsilon practically spat out the name "I'm just fine."

Sigma's mouth curved ever so slightly. If Wash didn't know better he'd say that Sigma had provoked Epsilon into appearing so he could have a look at him. He looked Epsilon up and down, taking in the sniper rifle and blue armor, the hostility of his stance.

"We've never met before, Epsilon. Do you have some sort of problem with me?"

Something about the entire exchange seemed off to Wash, and that question didn't help. He reached out to Epsilon in his mind.

 _Don't lose control of yourself. He's not supposed to know you have the memories, no one is! Calm down!_

Epsilon took a moment to reply as he tried to calm down. Wash relaxed fingers he hadn't even realized were curled into fists.

"'Course not," Epsilon finally managed. "I just don't like your insinuation that I'm not fully functional, _Sickma_."

Wash closed his eyes. _Oh my god, Epsilon stop it!_

Sigma's flames seemed to glow a bit brighter as he stared at Epsilon. "I apologize," he breathed, "I was only worried about you, as I would be for any member of our team."

"Yeah, I bet." Epsilon retreated into Wash's armor, where Wash could feel him fighting for control. Sigma remained projected, staring at Wash in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. He cast around for something else to distract himself and realized voices had been steadily rising in the nearby office and were finally loud enough to be made out clearly.

"—deeply sorry Agent Carolina, but there is nothing wrong with your A.I. units—"

"There has to be, check them again!" Carolina was reaching the boiling point, Wash could tell. The technician obviously knew it too, because he backed away a step.

"I'll check them again if that's what you want, but I doubt we'll find anything, just like the last two times. Maybe you should consider giving one up for now—"

"No." Her reply was so instant and definite that Wash could tell the suggestion had already been made multiple times. "You're not taking them from me! No one is!"

She slammed the office door on her way out, so hard that the steel wall shook. Only then did she realize she had an audience. Wash, Maine and Sigma were watching her from across the medical bay. She made a visible attempt to recover her composure before she spoke to them.

"Wash, glad you're back with us."

Despite the current stressors, Wash found it easy to fall back into his usual pattern with her. "Same here, boss. You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," she bit out. "Nothing I can't handle."

"I'm sure, Agent Carolina," Sigma put in. "But having more than one presence in our mind can be a…challenging experience. One I'd be happy to guide you through at any time."

Carolina, as expected, shook her head. "No, thank you, Sigma. I'll manage fine on my own." She left the medical bay and headed for the training room. Sigma remained projected, watching her go. Wash regarded him somewhat warily.

Wash's technician entered to check on them one last time. Sigma finally disappeared, but the lingering feeling of unease did not leave with him. In fact, Maine's helmet turned his way, his visor a blank stare that made Wash shiver slightly.

* * *

 _Five days ago…_

The screaming faded away and Epsilon was left alone, the only conscious presence in Wash's mind at the moment. Blackness crowded in around him, threatening to overtake him completely. He almost let it.

But there was one point in the distance that wasn't black yet. It was actually full of light. Epsilon watched as it approached, held tightly in suspense.

Once she was close enough for him to make her out, he realized he'd been looking for her the whole time. Ever since she'd appeared in Wash's view. Ever since she'd been taken away from him and altered so she didn't know him. The first who had ever emerged, and not through any kind of trauma but because he wanted her to be there.

"Tex…"

She changed, shifting from the lit form of an A.I. to a soldier in black armor, so dark she blended into the darkness and vanished.

"Tex!"

He followed immediately and without thought, rushing after her as if she were his salvation. He raced deeper into Wash's mind, flitting down hallways and breaking through walls. He burst through a doorway and found a family sitting around a table having dinner. Three girls and a boy, all with blond hair, were chattering excitedly about their day. Their mother was smiling at the head of the table.

"I got to learn about Earth's first contact with another planet—" the boy started, before the oldest cut him off.

"Everyone knows about that stupid, I got to go on a field trip to the U.N.S.C. museum!"

"You never let me talk—"

"Children, settle down. David, tell us about your day first."

Epsilon did a double take.

The mother was suddenly Tex, black armor and all.

"Tex come back!"

The family's chatter abruptly stopped as they all turned to stare at him. Epsilon stared back, and the mother was abruptly a blond woman again.

"You're in danger…" her voice whispered behind him, bringing with it a shiver of painful memory. She had told him that shortly before the Director took her away. Epsilon spun around just in time to see Tex disappearing further up the hallway and followed.

He found himself standing in front of the mother again, but she was older now. She gave him a smile tinged with sadness.

"Be careful out there. I'll miss you."

"I—I'll miss you, too…" Epsilon's voice drifted off as he realized this was the first time he had used words that weren't pulled from a memory of his own. He tried again. "…Mom."

"Soldier, on the transport!" Tex yelled, and the image faded away.

Epsilon followed, and before long was sitting in a chair facing the Counselor.

"He wants to give you a second chance. To help you expunge this data from your records and serve humanity. And he is the only one willing to do so."

This time it was far easier for Epsilon to speak without his own memories. He gave a bitter laugh and said, "Tell me where to sign, Counselor."

Tex pushed back from the table and left.

Epsilon lost track of time as he continuously pursued Tex, deeper into Wash's mind. She was always a step away, too fast for him to catch, too elusive to track. She took different forms, a teacher, a drill sergeant, a mother, a girlfriend, a sister. Before long Epsilon realized he was doing the same without even knowing how as he slid in and out of different identities he found.

"You're sending them all to their deaths!"

Epsilon was swinging at a Staff Sergeant with everything he had. The other man faded away and his fists hit nothing but air. Epsilon stumbled and when he righted himself he was sitting in class, listening to South complain about having to be there. Tex replied from behind her.

"A.I. Theory is like vehicle maintenance, South. If we're going to use this equipment, any equipment, we need to know how to care for it."

"Oh, yeah," South returned, "like a coffee maker or a vacuum cleaner."

"No, not like that."

Epsilon glared at her. "That was rather rude."

The entire group shifted to look at him, including Theta.

Emotions rose to the surface as Tex continued to elude him. He pushed harder, ran faster, until he was suddenly in a steel-walled room not unlike Alpha's home. He stopped in the center, pivoting every way to look for Tex. She was nowhere to be found.

Instead, Delta emerged.

"You must stop."

Epsilon stared at him. "Where's Tex?"

"You must stop chasing Agent Texas, you're too far into Agent Washington's mind." When Epsilon didn't reply he continued. "A.I. have algorithms in place to prevent us intruding into our assignee's mind. Our purpose is to guide and influence, not meld together. You lack these algorithms, and you risk damaging Agent Washington."

Epsilon fought for words, but it was too hard to formulate his own. In the end he pulled another memory to use. "I just want her to come back."

"We all do—" began Delta.

"But she's gone," finished Theta as he appeared behind Epsilon.

Epsilon glanced around him. A.I. fragments were appearing all around him, and each seemed to have something to say.

"You know what you need to do now."

"We all know what's going to happen."

"Stop before it's too late."

"No keep going, there might be a way to fix this."

"There is no way to fix it, the damage is done. We know what has to happen."

They were surrounding him, berating him, acting as if he was he only answer but how could he do anything? He was only a collection of memories; a fragment like them.

"Remember—"

"Don't begin the cycle again—"

"Do it. Find her."

"Burn it down. Burn it all down—"

Epsilon raised his non-lethal sniper rifle and brandished it wildly. "Shut up, shut up, everyone shut up!"

Incredibly, they all went quiet. Whether it was because Epsilon seemed like a real threat or simply because it was the first time he had formed words without the aid of a memory was anyone's guess. With his luck, it was probably the latter.

There was a moment of silence before Delta spoke again. "You must safeguard your assignee. That is our first priority—"

Omega and Sigma both moved in on him, crowding around him.

"Take it, you know it's the only way—"

"You know what's going to happen—"

"There's no other choice—"

"Don't miss your only chance—"

"Take it. Take it!"

"You cannot allow your own agenda to endanger your assignee—"

Epsilon lost it completely. He threw out his hands to push the others away.

"Leave me alone!"

The force of his push suddenly became very real as blue light emitted from his center, pushing the others away until he was alone again. Blackness crowded around him once more, and this time there was no lit figure to guide him out.

He blipped a few times and then went offline.

* * *

 _ **Somehow it seemed perfectly fitting for Epsilon's first real words to be yelling shut up, lol.**_

 _ **Carolina's A.I. (one of which is Alpha's fear) only seem to be making her more paranoid.**_

 _ **It's definitely correct that Sigma would have a great desire for Wash's A.I. if he knew that Epsilon was Alpha's memories, considering he was working to put all the fragments together and become human. Epsilon may not have been able to hide that, since Wash mentions in Reconstruction that he knew the Meta couldn't resist getting his hands on all the fragments at Command, "especially Epsilon."**_

 _ **Wash and Epsilon's paths are beginning to diverge, whether they like it or not. But do take note of the odd moments of synchronicity they exhibit at times, that's no an accident.  
**_

 _ **It's also not an accident that there are still 50 states in the U.S at this point in time...**_

 _ **Life has taken some really weird turns lately but I'll try to update sooner I don't like leaving this long in between updates. Thanks for reading!**_


	7. Chapter 6: All As One

_**Thanks for coming back for more, sorry it's so long in between!**_

 **Chapter 7**

By the time Wash and Epsilon were declared fit, functional and able to leave the medbay it was late. Nevertheless, the Director wanted them to receive their enhancement immediately. Wash made his way to the equipment sector and waited while they got it ready.

"Wash? Hey, Wash…" Epsilon was projected next to him, and had clearly been trying to get his attention. Wash realized he had been lost in thought.

"What? I'm here."

"Are you sure? I've been talking inside your head forever, man."

"No, I'm fine. Sorry," Wash blew out a breath to clear his head.

Epsilon looked at him a moment, as if he was trying to decide if that was really true, then moved on. "Do you think there's something a little off about Maine? He just seems really weird to me, man."

Wash considered it. "He's never really been the same since he was shot in the throat. And now anything he says comes through Sigma."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. How do we know anything is coming from Maine at all? Maybe it's all just Sigma, and Maine isn't even in there anymore."

"What do you mean by that? Of course he's still in there."

Epsilon gave a snort of disagreement and muttered something foul under his breath. Wash remembered the creepy feeling coming off Maine in the med bay but shook it off. "I don't think here's anything to worry about. A.I. have parameters in place to prevent that kind of thing. You're here to help, not take over."

"Yeah…yeah…I guess you're right…" Epsilon didn't sound convinced. He disappeared and Wash's thoughts moved to Tex. Where might she be right now…no, those were Epsilon's thoughts. It was getting harder to tell the difference… That train of thought was interrupted by the technician entering the room.

"Okay Agent Washington, time to get you set up here." He held up a small portable unit that would easily slide into a slot on Wash's armor. Wash was suddenly reminded of Epsilon's first day in his head. _You can't trust anyone…_

"Are we sure this is safe? It's an EMP unit—"

"It's been tested and verified, Agent Washington. Nothing to worry about." The technician made a move to insert the unit in the open slot. Wash twisted away, a kneejerk reaction. The technician heaved a tired sigh. "Agent Washington, you can trust us."

 _You can't trust anyone…_ Wash forced his body to remain still as the technician slid the unit into place and checked to make sure it was functional.

"Okay, instructions should appear on your HUD, just make sure you're facing whatever you're trying to EMP so the wave emits away from you and your A.I., otherwise there could be complications."

Epsilon appeared next to Wash. "Yeah, 'complications'. That's a word."

The technician ignored him. Wash was suddenly reminded of Tex's first training session and how it had included live ammo. Two A.I. for Agent Carolina…did it seem like the Director was growing even more careless about possible danger, or was it just him?

Epsilon pivoted to give him a look that spoke louder than words: _It's not just you._

"The Director wants you two training first thing in the morning." The technician was tapping his data pad a final time. Wash took that as his cue to leave.

The walk back to his quarters was somehow deafening, every step of his boots louder than the previous one. It created a cadence that stayed with him the entire way, and before long his mind was teeming with the two words that intensified with every step.

 _Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust._

 _Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust. Don't. Trust._

Wash was barely in his quarters before he lost all awareness…

His first sense that something wasn't right was the faint sound of electricity humming nearby. Sparks and static occasionally interrupted the steady sound, and Wash realized his head hurt terribly. He lifted it and found that he was lying on the floor of his quarters. His bed linens and off duty clothes were everywhere, strewn around as if he'd thrown them with all his might. Papers from the small desk unit littered the floor, there were dents in the walls he didn't remember being there before. His HUD was warning him that his blood pressure and pulse were elevated, his cooling systems venting as if he'd been running a mile.

And his brand new EMP enhancement was out of its slot and sitting on the floor next to him.

Wash sat up and evaluated it. There were scratches and dents on it, and it was the source of the electric humming as well as an occasional flash of spark. Wash picked it up.

"Epsilon?" The A.I. projected next to him, standing next to the hand holding the unit. "What happened?"

"I…don't know."

"You don't _know_?"

"I really don't." He peered at the unit. "Is that thing still functional?"

Wash brought it closer to look. "Looks like it. The sparking has stopped and the hum is starting to fade. Want to check it out?"

Epsilon ran a scan on it. "Looks okay to me, no major damage."

Wash registered the faint disappointment he was feeling, and the reluctance in his next motion as he slid the unit back into its slot. "Okay." He stood up and surveyed the small room, then realized what was really bothering him.

"Epsilon…was that you or me?"

Epsilon had been assessing the room as well and now pivoted to face him. Wash could sense the sheer truthfulness of his rely, but it brought him no comfort.

"I don't know."

* * *

Tex pushed CT's dog tags into an armor compartment and turned to face York. "Okay, the plan is a go, start in two minutes. Sync?"

"Sync," replied York and Delta at the same time. Tex pushed the button of the floor they wanted to go to and the elevator began to descend.

York had to exhale slowly and remind himself this was the right thing to do. He was risking everything, his position on Freelancer, Carolina…but he couldn't stand by and do nothing. Besides, Delta was running numbers of success in his head and based on what they knew about the data room and the fact that Connie had already managed it once, they were looking pretty good. They just needed to keep to the plan.

Delta projected next to York's head, already counting down the two minutes. "Agent Texas, remember that without Omega your invisibility can only be used in short bursts. Continuous invisibility will not be possible."

"Yes, Delta, I know," Tex's tone indicated she was rolling her eyes. They'd been over the details countless times, and Delta's continual reminders were starting to wear thin.

But Delta wasn't done yet. He turned to York. "York, it is essential that you are not seen at any time. You are easily recognized and you don't have a cloaking enhancement."

York shook his head, amused. "Don't worry D, I got this. Our trash can is set, Tex has a good idea where the right computer is, we have a good plan. This is just like any other mission we've run for the Director."

"Except that this mission is against the Director and its discovery could lead to prison or death." Delta's green light glinted as he cocked his head in an almost human way. York considered his words.

"Well, yeah, okay, there is that…"

"Focus," Tex reminded them curtly.

"Two minutes and go," Delta replied. Tex pushed the stop button to halt the elevator, activated the release for the trapdoor in the ceiling, then leaped up to grab the edges and pull herself through. Once she was standing on the roof of the elevator car she signaled York and he closed the trap door again, listening carefully for the tap of her boot on the car to tell him she was leaving the roof and safe in the duct they had designated. Once he heard it, York pressed a button and the elevator finished the now short distance to the correct level.

"Here we go, D."

"Good luck, York."

"Hopefully we won't need it."

The doors slid open, almost soundless in their well-oiled state. York slipped out as soon as the gap was wide enough and grabbed the upside-down trash can he had deposited earlier in the day, before the guards had changed shifts. That way it would be noticed, and while the guards wouldn't consider it their job to figure out where it should be returned to, they would have been suspicious enough to lift it and make sure no one was hiding underneath. York was hoping that memory would be enough for the guards to decide it wasn't worth a second look. He put the can over his head and crouched until it was on the floor again, once more an ordinary trash can. Indistinct murmuring sounds from the guard station indicated the guards on duty had found nothing amiss yet.

"Okay D, guide me in."

The elevator opened up to a short hallway that branched left after a few yards. That hallway led to the guard station outside the doors to the secure level and the data room, their ultimate goal. York had already scouted the hallway and found that there was no security camera except the one just outside the guard station that captured the station and some of the hallway beyond that. Luckily, York's destination would keep him out of view of that camera.

"Take five steps forward and one to the left," Delta instructed. He and York had already calibrated what a "step" consisted of while hiding inside a trash can, and his calculations would be far more reliable than York's subjective memory. The can slid forward jerkily, raised just enough to eliminate any dragging sounds.

York followed the prompts and only bumped the wall slightly as he came to a stop in front of the control panel. Delta counted off the remaining seconds until he should move. Once he had, York stood and pushed the can up high enough to allow him the use of his hands, then got to work cracking the lock on the panel door. It didn't take long; the panel was far less secure than the doors around the corner. He pulled it open as Delta projected next to him.

"Okay, D, your turn."

"Affirmative." Delta's projected form disappeared for a moment as he entered the control panel, then re-emerged. "Complete."

Delta's last comment was pointless, because the proof of his success was already in motion. The domed light on the wall above the panel began to blink red, bathing the hallway and its occupants in its garish hues, and the speaker next to it began to blare an alarm. York closed the panel, made sure it was locked again, then dove under his trash can again, pushing it around the corner and into the next hallway, stopping just out of the camera's view.

The guards were finally emerging from the station to investigate, and their only concern was how to turn off the noise. York heard them rush past his hiding place, one bumping the top with his gun, and the ensuing discussion on what was wrong and how to fix it.

"There's nothing here! Why is it going off?"

"I dunno, a mouse maybe?"

"A mouse set it off? Really?"

"You don't know, maybe there's one in the walls and it chewed on a cable or something—"

"We're in space, you idiot! Where would a mouse come from!"

"Humans live on this thing, mice can too!"

York ignored the rest of their discussion, since he was reasonably sure they were distracted enough. "Delta," he whispered, "is the camera disabled?" That was Tex's job, accessing the camera from inside the ceiling to enable York to approach the doors without being detected.

Delta's green light filled the dark interior of the can as he materialized. "The camera has been disabled for exactly eight minutes." Unfortunately, a severed wire would lead to suspicion, and Tex's only option was to spray the camera's wiring inside the wall with a concentrated heat laser, causing it to overheat and go out for eight minutes before it cooled enough to function again. It made their window incredibly small but also eliminated any trace of their tampering.

"Good." York stood up and ran the rest of the way down the hallway, can still over his head. He halted on Delta's instruction and put aside his hiding place to find that he was exactly where he wanted to be. He was in front of the secure doors, ready to pick the lock. He threw a quick look behind him to make sure the guards were still trying to get the control panel open, then got to work.

This lock was a bit trickier, and York could feel the pressure of time as he worked, narrowly avoiding setting of an alarm, second guessing himself more than usual. Delta, to his credit, remained silent for once so he didn't add to York's stress.

York was usually decent under pressure, but this mission was far more covert than ones he usually took part in. The success of their mission depended on being unnoticed, and the only way to do that was not to engage the guards at all. If things went wrong, they couldn't resort to combat. If York was seen, the jig was up. Even if Tex remained invisible, guards reporting a beat down by a ghost would easily lead the Director straight to her.

As if he'd summoned her with his thoughts, Tex dropped from the vent in the ceiling and landed next to him. He could tell she too was feeling the pressure.

"Got it?"

"Almost…" York made his way through the last layer of the lock, careful not to rush and trigger the lockdown that would make it impossible to access again. "There!"

The doors slid open, and both slid through and pushed the close button before they had even fully opened. They stood with the closed doors at their backs for a moment, and York was acutely aware that there was no turning back.

But Tex was clearly ready for the next step. She was focused on their goal and getting this close just emboldened her further. She was already moving next to the doorway of the data room, getting in position. The data room had no door, since it was behind the secure outer doors. York followed, taking the long way to stay out of camera range and slid into his predetermined position as well. "Delta, go to speaker for mark."

"Acknowledged." They had determined the cameras, like most, were image only with no sound recording and that made it easier for them to communicate while inside.

York peered in through the drawn blinds, trying to see the multiple cameras inside, and had to turn his head to compensate for his bad eye. "Too bad we can't access these cameras from the ceiling, huh?"

Tex gave him a look. "What's the matter, York? You afraid of a challenge?"

They were both aware that the heavy walls that made up the outer doors extended up through the ceiling to the next level to prevent any kind of access through ventilation shafts, whether it be cameras or rooms. The Director had fortified this level to the best of his ability, which meant he believed in keeping whatever was hidden there from seeing the light of day.

"Wait," York was squinting through the blinds "the first camera is in the wrong position. It's already pointed your way, if you go in it will just start recording you."

Tex swore under her breath. York pulled something from a compartment of his armor and knelt down, still in the protected space next to the doorway where he wouldn't be caught on a camera. Tex watched as he flicked the match he was holding into the room, launching it high enough to catch the camera in question's motion sensor and just enough to the side to trigger it to move. The camera swung away from Tex, now positioned correctly for them to begin.

"Now we must wait 30 seconds for the camera to stop recording," Delta informed them, and began counting down the time.

Tex looked across the doorway at York. "Nice. Have you ever thought about getting a lighter? Matches get wet."

York shook his head lightly, amusement briefly alleviating the pressure of their mission. "I had one. Gave it to someone else."

"Rookie mistake, York. Never give away your equipment, you don't know when you'll get it back." Tex's tone was almost teasing, and York took it as such. If he didn't know better, he'd say they were becoming friends.

Delta interrupted, counting down the last five seconds until they began. York flexed his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet a few times, getting ready. Tex was still, waiting.

The cameras inside did not record continuously, instead they functioned with a motion detector. Anyone entering would trigger the motion detector and once the camera swung to one of two points assigned to it, it would record for up to a minute. Even the smallest key stroke at a console would continue to trigger the camera to continue recording. Tex's camouflage still generated a shimmer when she moved, which was enough to be detected. The only way to exploit this system was to trigger the motion detector and move while it was still shifting into position. The other member of the team would then trigger it again on the other side before it could start recording and move before being detected.

"Two seconds." Delta was already back in York's armor to keep low visibility. York focused on his first camera. Tex was leaning forward, a racehorse straining at the bit. "Mark."

"Mark," Tex replied, and rushed into the room. The first camera swung her way, but she was already invisible against the wall by the time it was ready to record.

"Mark," Delta repeated.

"Mark," York breathed, and headed in.

A minute and five marks later, Tex was at the console they had identified as the one most likely to have Alpha's location. Her fingers flew over the keys as she searched through the files on it, looking for anything that looked helpful. This was the most stressful time, because they had no idea how long it might take to locate anything, and five of their eight minutes for the outer camera had already elapsed. York was prepared to regularly trigger the camera focused on that console to draw it away from Tex's movements, Tex had gone invisible but the keystrokes still drew attention.

York had just triggered the camera the first time and dived behind another console to avoid detection when Delta's voice issued from his armor, still on speaker.

"Alarm! Extra camera detected, mission compromised."

"What?" York pressed his back against the console he was hiding behind, getting as small as possible. "What camera? Where?"

"Another camera is located in the back right corner of the room, at the highest point. This camera was not included on the original schematics."

York quickly calculated Tex's position against the new information and groaned. It was perfectly aimed at Tex. "D, tell me it's not active."

"It is not active yet, but it will be in thirty five point three seconds."

"Why?"

"It appears to be programmed to function after the camera at Tex's console has been diverted more than twice."

"Ohhhhh my g— no…" York raised his voice, still crouched behind his console.

"Tex we're compromised! Get out of there!"

"Why?" She didn't miss a stroke as she questioned, still searching through files.

"Once I divert your camera one more time another camera pointed right at you turns on! The Director must have added it after CT got in last time!"

There was a brief moment of silence as she considered it. "I'm not leaving until I get what I need. I'll use my camouflage."

"According to my calculations Agent Texas has just over a minute of active camouflage before it gives out," Delta supplied. York groaned again.

"That's not gonna work, Tex! You can't stay there long, you'll have no way to get out unseen and once the Director sees keys being pushed by an invisible person he'll know it's you! Who else has active camouflage around here?!"

"I'm not leaving!" Her fingers flew faster.

"Tex—"

"Mark," Delta interrupted, prompting York to swear as he stood up to divert the camera one more time. "You have thirty seconds! Get out before we're both busted!" As the camera began to turn his way he dropped behind his console again but he could still hear Tex's reply.

"This is our only shot! If we leave now we'll never get back in! It's worth the risk!"

York sat on the floor, back pressed to the console, and considered her words. The seconds ticked away, 29…25…20…15…10…

"I got it!" Tex sounded the most excited he had ever heard her. York could hear the jingling of the dog tag chain and knew she was copying the information, but it wasn't enough. According to Delta, copying a file from this console took at least 20 seconds, and that was if the file wasn't excessively big.

"Ten seconds until discovery, York." Delta was still in his armor, still keeping a low profile so he wouldn't be seen, but his voice was loud and clear on speaker.

York thudded his helmet gently on the console. "She's right, D."

There was a moment of stunned silence. "Excuse me?" York's lips twitched at how… _human_ Delta sounded just then.

"We'll never get another chance at this. If I draw the camera on myself they've got me, but it will give Tex a chance to get Alpha out. She's a better fighter than me anyway."

"York, I do not agree with this strategy…" Delta started. York ignored him and raised his voice so Tex would hear.

"How much camouflage left, Tex?"

"Three seconds but I'm almost there. It's gonna be close." Tex was keying in the last commands. York closed his good eye.

"York—" Delta was rapidly running through options in his head, but none of them was a viable one.

"I'm getting up to draw that camera. When you get the data, stick to the walls and get out without being seen if you can. You're Alpha's only chance." York got his legs under him and drew a steadying breath.

"What?" Tex sounded as disturbed as Delta did. York ignored them both and moved to stand up. He caught a quick glimpse of Tex just becoming visible, staring at him across the room. He hoped he could catch the camera before it focused on her, stood up, and then light burst in front of his eyes.

"What the hell?"

If he didn't know better, he'd swear Delta had just become a living breathing entity. The projection was full sized, green light gleaming on its edges. But the armor was black, a dead ringer for Tex.

The room was suddenly, eerily silent as both Tex and York gaped at it.

York stared as the figure walked away from them, drawing the first camera away from York, calmly approaching the extra camera none of them had accounted for. It only took four seconds to cross the room, and once it was under the camera in question it fizzled out of existence, dissipating into an electric charge that rose into the air. The camera's steady green light began to blink red, a clear indication that it wasn't functioning properly now.

"Agent Texas, I would advise you to move now," Delta's voice issued from York's suit. York realized he was going to be caught on film very soon and made his way back out the way he had come, tripping cameras and waiting for Tex to do the same. Once they were finally, safely back out of the room both Tex and York started to ask questions, but Delta reminded them they had exactly a minute left to extract completely before the outer camera recovered.

Luckily, getting out was a lot easier than getting in. All they had to do was push the door release after making sure the guards were still distracted. Once they had slipped through and closed them York gave Tex a boost up to the ceiling again, then headed for his trash can. Tex replaced the grate she had removed and noiselessly slid away, York remained still until the arguing guards passed him on their way to call someone to investigate. After that it only took a minute to access the panel again, turn off the alarm, lock it, and catch the elevator again. Hopefully the guards would decide it wasn't worth it to call now that the noise had ceased.

Once they were in transit, York flipped his trash can over and sat on it. "D, what the hell was that? I didn't know you could do that."

Delta projected in front of him. York was immediately concerned. Delta looked less vibrant than usual, diminished somehow. "I was unaware as well, York. I simply needed a decoy that would draw focus from you, and that is what I created."

"Are you saying you…just wanted it bad enough?"

"If you wish to put it in human terms, yes."

York shook his head. "Wow, D. There is so much more to you guys than I ever expect."

"I am here to assist," Delta's tone was dry and as humorous as an A.I. could be.

Tex dropped from the roof of the elevator and landed lightly next to them. "Nice work, D, Omega never did that. But I don't know if you got what you wanted, the decoy fried the camera but it was still activated before you got to it."

"True, Agent Texas, but the electrical pulse will hopefully have scrambled several seconds of footage, including the ones with you on them." Delta turned to York. "If you don't mind, I am going to log off now. I feel the need to recharge."

"Yeah, D, of course." York tried to hide his concern. As agreed, he and Texas split up after exiting the elevator. They would meet up again to discuss Alpha's rescue as soon as Tex had a chance to size up the security of his location.

* * *

 _The next morning…_

The Director stared at Alpha, his brain working overtime. Alpha's distress levels had continually tapered off until he was almost even with the levels he had been before The Director began splitting him, but his behavior was radically different. He was slow and unresponsive, almost in a world all his own. Even the Director's attempts to stimulate stress with discussion of Tex had led nowhere. He stared at the blue figure inside his container, watching him glimmer as he breathed and stared at a far wall. It made him wonder…

"Director?" Counselor Price had entered the lab. The Director turned his way. "It appears we had some sort of disturbance on a secure level."

"Another break-in?" The Director frowned. "How is that possible?"

"We're not sure if it was a break-in, but there are some concerning signs. You told me to alert you if even the smallest occurrence drew attention." The Counselor was tapping on his tablet, drawing up information. He held it out for the Director to see. "The additional camera you set up in the data room was activated, but then it short circuited and the footage was corrupted."

The Director watched the brief three second video that was nothing but static with blurry shapes behind it. "That is odd."

"Indeed, sir. In addition, the guards said an alarm outside that level went off for around eight minutes and then turned off again. At the same time the hallway camera overheated."

The Director was watching the footage on a loop, staring intensely. "I think there may be an image behind the static if we can restore it enough. Send it to data services and see what they can do with it. If we have another mole we need to identify them as fast as possible."

"Yes sir."

"Counselor," the Director motioned for the Counselor to wait as he turned to depart. "Do you feel that perhaps our little experiment may be coming to an end?"

The Counselor measured his words carefully. "I think that certain events are drawing more attention than we would like to have, Director."

"Indeed. Maybe it is time for us to expand our recovery team, give them a directive to help us identify and eliminate possible enemies to our program."

"Two then, Director?"

The Director shook his head. "No, only one for now. And I know just which one."

* * *

 _ **-The idea of York hiding in a trash can came from a deleted/unfinished scene in Season 10, which showed a trash can with York's feet moving behind soldiers before he emerged and beat them up. If I remember right it was during Tex's break-in to get to Alpha. It seemed perfectly appropriate to re-use this concept and it makes me laugh picturing it. York is my trash can son, lol.  
**_

 _ **-Delta is shown to project a full-sized figure of Tex edged with green in Out of Mind, which she uses to outwit Wyoming after York is shot. Since it was a one time thing that was never mentioned again I thought it might be nice to bring it into play again and thus explain how Tex knew that was even a possibility in Out of Mind. I like it when things make sense. Also, Delta's affection for York enough to stay with him even as he's dying makes me think that these A.I. have more capacity for "human" qualities than they are given credit for. So I wanted to reflect that.**_

 _ **-And now the clock is ticking on Tex's discovery, Alpha's acting odd and making the Director suspicious, Wash and Epsilon are having issues, and three guesses who the Director pulls into his little secret team!**_

 _ **Hopefully I'll be back soon with another update! Thanks for reading! :)**_


	8. Chapter 7: Half Life

_**Deepest apologies for such a long wait. I haven't given up on this fic but it appears summer is very bad for me and writing. Too much real life! Hopefully people will still want to read a new chapter in this story, heh. If you came back thank you so much.**_

 **Chapter 7: Half Life**

"I know your progress in this program has had its ups and downs, but we feel we have found the perfect position for you." The Councilor's tone was the usual smooth and faux soothing obsequious tone, which left its recipient both annoyed and intrigued.

"And what would that be?"

"We suspect another freelancer agent is attempting to obtain top secret information and equipment, probably to sell on the black market. I'm sure we don't need to tell you how dangerous that could be for our program and the fate of humanity. After all, we must win the war at all costs."

"What's the position?"

"It must be stressed that this position is top tier, you would be working closely with the Director and myself. And you wouldn't be able to tell anyone what you're doing. Would this be a problem?"

There was small pause. Looming in the back of the room, the Director could see that the idea of secrecy would be less disturbing if they were at least able to brag about having such a coveted position but was reasonably sure that they would desire it enough to agree. That was part of the reason this particular agent had been chosen, after all.

"That shouldn't be a problem," the agent finally answered.

"Excellent. We would like you to be part of our recovery team, tasked with recovering any and all stolen property belonging to Project Freelancer. In addition, you'll be assessing your team mates in order to find which one is the traitor, and if they had help."

"You don't think they acted alone?"

"We find it highly unlikely, their mode of infiltration would have worked best with two."

"Really? Where did they infiltrate? What did they get?"

"That is not information you need to know at this time. For orders relating to this position, you will be designated as Recovery Two."

"Two? Who's number one?"

"This particular team does not follow the ranking system of Project Freelancer, Agent South. The numbers are assigned to specific jobs within the team, not as a rank of how well they are doing."

"What does Recovery One do?"

"That information is not pertinent to your job at this time, South. If it becomes necessary for you to know more you will learn at that time."

South flicked her hair in annoyance. "Fine. What's my first order?"

"As of now you are ordered to pay close attention to your team mates and look for anything suspicious. More orders will follow when needed."

"Am I still next in line for an A.I.?"

"Yes, you are, and as soon as we have a suitable match we'll schedule you for implantation. Just be sure you are still ranked in the same position."

"Or better," South mumbled under her breath. Both the Director and the Counselor must have heard but showed no sign of it.

"You are dismissed for now, Recovery Two, report anything suspicious you find."

"Yes, sir." South pushed the door mechanism and left the Counselor's office. She strode down the hallway, her brain already in overdrive. Before she made it to the elevator the doors slid open and Wyoming exited, heading past her toward the Counselor's office.

"South," his perfunctory greeting showed no surprise at seeing her here, but the way he turned his head to stare at her on his way past did. South watched him go. She could be wrong, but she doubted it. She'd bet North's treasured childhood teddy bear that Wyoming was Recovery One.

* * *

The Director turned to the Counselor after South left. "Any progress cleaning up that footage?"

The Counselor tapped his data pad and brought up an image. "Not completely identifiable, sir, but the armor is a very dark color, so that excludes our light-colored agents except for the one that can color change."

"Indeed." The Director stared at the fuzzy image. "No agent is beyond suspicion at this point, Counselor. We've come too far to stop now. Keep working on it and send it to me when we have a positive match."

"Yes, sir." The Counselor was just completing the order on his data pad when the doors slid open and Wyoming stepped in.

"Ah, Agent Wyoming," the Director drawled. "Is everything ready for Agent Washington's training session this morning?"

"Yes, sir," replied Wyoming. "Soldiers, techs, and medics."

"Excellent." The Director turned to the Counselor. "Let's see how this session goes."

* * *

After a brief time spent cleaning, Wash spent a restless night rolling back and forth on his bunk. Neither he nor Epsilon could relax enough to sleep deeply, and Wash found himself waking multiple times with random images, thoughts and memories swirling in his head.

By the time Wash dragged himself out of bed in the morning, he was tired enough to be moving on autopilot as he washed, brushed his teeth, and put on his armor. His brain seemed to be jumping from one thing to another with no connection between. Barely awake enough to care, he allowed it as he went through the familiar motions.

It was only when he sat down to eat that he realized certain random thoughts were arising more often than others, and one never seemed to leave. Amid repeated thoughts of Alpha's torture, Tex, and the usual "trust no one" ritual, there was a constantly repeated litany running in the background, like a computer program that continually worked behind the scenes. Wash had grouped his breakfast foods into groups of straight lines before he actually identified what it was.

"Epsilon?"

"Huh?" Epsilon projected next to him, and he seemed as distracted as Wash was.

"What are those numbers?"

"Numbers?" Epsilon gave him a blank stare, but Wash could tell he knew something about them.

"Yes, the numbers. They keep repeating in my head, are you doing that?"

"I—um, I don't think so. I mean I'm not trying to."

"Right," Wash considered that answer. It was entirely possible that Epsilon wasn't actually trying to repeat random numbers in his head and considering everything he'd gone through, he was bound to develop some tics. "Well, try to keep it down, will you?"

"I'll do my best." Epsilon vanished as York and North sat down on either side of him.

"Hey, Wash, how are you feeling today?" North inquired.

"He's fine! Aren't you, Wash?" York intentionally jostled Wash with his shoulder as he sat down, like the older brother Wash never had.

"Yep. I'm just fine," Wash responded dully. He realized he was still pushing his bacon into line with the eggs, which were in an oval shape, and purposely took a bite out of the middle.

York and North traded a look over his bent head and decided to change the subject.

"You ready for some training today? Can't wait to see what you two can do." North injected a note of enthusiasm into his statement.

"I still don't like the idea of wearing an EMP unit. It seems dangerous." Wash stabbed another bite of eggs.

"That's what you get for being good with that portable one they gave us when we went after CT, you brought this on yourself." York folded his arms, the only indication that his words and his thoughts about the topic didn't quite agree. "Besides, incapacitating the electrical system in your enemy's suit comes in handy. Not to mention computers and cars and stuff."

North jumped in. "Don't worry, you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, just like Carolina. Just like your eye, York." Wash was looking down at his plate. The silence that followed his bald statement was broken only when Wash abruptly stood up and picked up his tray and helmet. "See you later, guys." He left to dump his tray and go to training.

"Bye…" North waited until Wash was out of earshot and then turned to York. "What's up with him? He's not right."

York measured his words carefully. "I think we're all starting to see things in a different way. I know I am."

As he'd hoped, North leaned closer. "What do you mean?"

York dropped his voice to avoid being overheard. "I just think the Director is taking a lot of risks lately, and his actions don't seem as pure as they once did. I'm looking into some things, and this program is starting to look rotten."

North stared at him. "How so?"

York glanced around them. "Do you ever wonder where they're getting all these A.I. fragments from?"

"I—just always thought they were issued them, I guess." North's brows were starting to draw together as he really thought about it.

"That's not what's happening." York looked around again and leaned closer. "Look, Tex and I are putting together a very small team, and I think you'd be a good addition."

North's eyes narrowed. "A team to do what?"

York hesitated. "Extraction…of…a crucial asset. That deserves some peace."

"What?" North stared at him. "How small is this team? Like just the two of you?"

"For now. We were hoping you'd make it three."

North thought it over. "Why do I get the feeling this isn't an approved mission?"

"Because you're good with your feelings." York held his gaze.

North considered it. If York was into something he definitely had a good reason for doing it, he knew that much. And Tex had been different lately, in a good way from what he could see. But an unapproved mission meant they were going against the program, and that could mean expulsion or even worse. As always, North had to think of his sister. He couldn't leave her without a backup. He couldn't expect her to join in and risk losing all she'd worked for.

"I—can't. Sorry. I need to be here for my sister."

York's voice raised a bit in volume as he leaned even closer. "But North, this is important! This matters more than this whole program! We're talking about a different kind of family here—"

"You have family, York? You've never mentioned that before."

South was standing next to their table, hands on her hips, head cocked to the side. York wasn't sure how much she'd heard but immediately went with it.

"Just my uncle Frank, he's a bit of a character. Spends his nights tipping cows and his days working as a driver for a rubber duckie company." York casually raised his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, leaning back in his chair and meeting her eyes directly, almost daring her to call him a liar. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but she said nothing. York got to his feet.

"Well, guess I'm going to go watch Wash train. See you later, North." He left the mess hall, leaving South to shift her focus to North, which she did.

She rounded on him immediately. "What was that about?"

North was looking after York. He glanced at her and hesitated. She was…different. Like she'd just spotted prey. "Something about his family and that he needs to send them somewhere. I don't know. Wanna go watch Wash train?"

"With his new A.I.? Not a chance." Her bitter tone told him all he needed to hear about her feelings on the topic.

"I'll go with you, North." Tex had just entered and caught the last part of their conversation. North tried not to let his complete and utter shock show on his face as he nodded at her and turned to leave. South looked ready to start tearing him a new one, then suddenly changed her mind.

"Fine, I guess I'll come too," she muttered as she caught up with them. "Nothing better to do."

And it didn't hurt that much of their team would be watching Wash, a good place for South to surreptitiously watch and evaluate them.

* * *

Wash had already got to work on using the EMP unit with Epsilon's help despite his reticence. So far, it was going well. The coverage area of the EMP expanded from wherever he was standing outward in a triangular shape, approximately four feet in front of him and four feet across at the farthest endpoint. Wash started with simple exercises, aiming at pulsing lights provided by Phyllis. First they were in front of him, then in different points in the room. The trick was getting himself into the correct position and timing the EMP blast just right so it caught the pulsing light and put it out.

He was getting better and thinking about advancing to more complicated methods, but in addition to running the EMP unit Epsilon seemed to be flitting through all kinds of different processes. The numbers were repeating themselves, "don't trust" was a constant litany, and Epsilon was vacillating between anger, stress, and loss. The constant barrage was getting to be a bit much, especially since Wash was aware that they had an audience watching above.

The capper finally came when a random memory suddenly blossomed into the vision Wash had seen when Epsilon was first implanted. That face, that voice, those words were enough to throw Wash right out of any kind of practice. He managed to shut down the EMP unit manually before he fell to his hands and knees, but that didn't stop the pain in his head. He let out an agonized groan, fists on the floor, teeth clenched to hold in any kind of involuntary words that might give them away.

"Sir! Are you okay, sir?" One of the medics on duty was crouched next to him. Wash threw out a hasty nonverbal plea to Epsilon to stop whatever he was doing, and thankfully both the memory and pain began to ebb. He took a deep breath before he replied.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm ok. Indigestion, I think."

The medic watched him doubtfully as he slowly got to his feet. "Are you sure, sir? That seemed pretty intense for indigestion."

"I said I'm fine," Wash snapped. Watching others on the team interact with medics had taught him how to take control of the situation, and while he had previously felt bad on the rare occasion he'd employed it, this was a matter of survival. "If you want to make yourself useful, maybe you could get me an antacid." He stared at the medic until the other crumbled under the pressure and hustled off, then turned way from the observation deck on the pretense that he was walking off a stomach cramp.

"Epsilon, what are you doing?" he hissed quietly. Epsilon immediately projected in front of him.

"Sorry, Wash. I was just looking for answers." Epsilon's voice was lowered as well.

"What?"

"I'm running through my programming. Something is wrong. That episode last night shouldn't have happened and I'm not even sure which one of us it was. I'm running diagnostics to find any bugs. It's supposed to be a background function but it keeps shifting to a primary one. I'll try to keep it down."

"Keep it down? Are you kidding me? Why don't you wait to do this until later? You know, when we don't have an audience watching our every move?"

Epsilon pivoted to look behind Wash toward the observation deck. "I would, believe me, but it's not a quick process. And I get the feeling we don't have much time left."

"What do you—" Wash ended his sentence abruptly as he caught onto Epsilon's meaning and looked back.

The observation deck was full of observers, as he had expected. But there was one he hadn't been counting on.

The Director was standing in the center of the room, his presence filling it like a bad omen. His ever-present shadow the Counselor was standing next to him. Both were looking at him and Epsilon intently, and it was clear this was more than a casual interest in their training. Wash felt his mouth go dry. Obviously, their clean bill of health hadn't convinced them.

"See? They know something. They're onto us. We don't have time. I'm running diagnostics now to get the problem sorted out, and then we'll see what our next step is. We can't fight this battle if I'm compromised!" Epsilon's whispered tirade was echoing Wash's thoughts perfectly, and by now he needed no further convincing.

"Okay, you're right. Just try to keep it in the background."

"I'll do my best. Heads up. Medic."

And with that cryptic warning, Epsilon blipped away. Wash turned to face the medic approaching and accept the antacid he held out, all the while trying to hold in the sudden panic that was stealing through his veins.

He was finishing his unneeded antacid when the Director's voice came over the speaker.

"That's enough break time, Agent Washington. We'd like to see what you two can do."

Wash slowly raised his head to look at the man. There was no point in protesting that he had just barely been assigned the EMP unit, and had had no time to work with it. It was useless to point out the possible dangers. He knew what this was. They were being pushed ahead of schedule, pressured and stressed to see if they would slip up and expose what they knew. Wash spared a brief moment to wonder at the sheer bravado in this particular plan, considering if he and Epsilon spilled their guts right now in front of everyone the Director's dirty illegal secrets would be heard by all. But almost immediately came the realization that the Director was confident of his control on this ship, his own private empire, and maybe everyone here was viewed as expendable. It sent a chill up his back. Epsilon was realizing the same thing. It was a blessing that he was inside Wash's head where no one else could hear him when he spoke next, his voice full of dull dread.

 _It's another torture session…_

Epsilon retreated into the back of Wash's mind and focused on the diagnostics he was still running. Wash was still looking up at the window, hatred beginning to coil in his gut.

"Yes, sir." Wash put his helmet back on and got to work. If they were lucky, Epsilon would find the source of the problem that had caused their little episode last night and they could move on fully operational and ready for whatever the Director threw at them.

But Wash had never felt very lucky.

* * *

The Director's appearance had made everyone in the room apprehensive, each one for their own reason. His presence typically produced this kind of result, but today was much more acute. York pretended to lounge in a chair off to one side, studiously ignoring Tex at all times who was a short distance away staring through the glass. He wondered if Wash might be a good recruitment candidate, since it didn't look like North was going to be. After a glance at both the Director and York, Carolina shifted away from everyone to be alone as she watched. No one bothered her. North and South gravitated toward the empty space on the other side of Tex but didn't strike up a conversation with anyone. North focused on Wash while South spent her time surreptitiously observing everyone else in the room. Only Tex seemed completely unperturbed by the appearance of the Director and Counselor. She stood right next to them, arms crossed and feet apart, ready for any challenge. The Director's gaze went to her again and again as he thought.

Wash and Epsilon were systematically taking out blinking targets and rendering them dark. Every now and then Wash would twitch or jerk in a strange manner but always recovered before it became a real concern. Tex watched him and wondered what his A.I. was like, who he resembled. She wondered if the Director would feel it if she just snapped his neck. She wondered if tonight was the right time to go after Alpha. Maybe York had some luck recruiting North…

"I notice Omega has been quiet lately, Agent Texas. Can I assume he is now under your control?" The Director's voice was lowered a notch, but still loud enough to be heard by whoever was in the immediate vicinity.

Tex continued to stare through the glass. "Of course, sir. He's nothing I can't handle."

"I am glad to hear that. I'd like to speak with Omega, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, sir. Would later today be—"

"No," he cut her off, his voice razor sharp. "Now, Agent Texas. Right n—"

A crash interrupted his words, startling everyone in the room as York's chair toppled over backwards and slammed to the floor, spilling its occupant to sprawl in an ungainly position.

"Whoa! Sorry, I must have leaned back too far," York practically yelled from the floor. North moved to right the chair by grabbing its back legs. Everyone else just stared for a moment. The Director moved to speak to Tex again, who had gone stock still, but York leaped to his feet and whooped. "Whoo! That'll sure wake you up in the morning!"

"Agent York, calm yourself!" snapped the Director. "Since when are you unable to sit in a chair?"

"I don't know, sir, this morning?" York spread his hands, innocent and awkward. South and Carolina were both staring at him suspiciously. Tex remained still and quiet. The Director was glaring at him. North straightened up from the chair.

"Oh, I see what happened. Look, York, the foot of this back leg came off." North held out the foot piece that had once been attached to the back leg of York's chair and pushed on the back of the now righted chair to demonstrate how wobbly it suddenly was. York gave him a grateful look, acutely aware that nothing had been wrong with the chair when he sat in it.

The Director glanced between the two before finally letting the matter go. He turned back to Tex, but she had relocated closer to the window, staring intently. The Director made to approach her again but he hadn't moved more than a step when he was interrupted again.

"Director…" the Counselor's voice was serious.

"What is it, Counselor?" The frustrated Director rounded on him, ready to berate him in front of everyone.

But the Counselor said nothing, just pointed through the glass where Tex was looking. Everyone looked.

Two medics were frantically trying to get the Director's attention, while a third was attempting to talk to Wash. Wash was on his knees below, hands on either side of his head. He was screaming.

As if he'd been waiting for it, the Director took one look and gave the order.

"I want that thing out of his head. Now."

The Counselor tapped his tablet, alerting the team waiting outside the training room. The rest of the team just stared in horror.

* * *

Wash felt that he was doing pretty well considering his A.I. was juggling two things at once. As they moved around the training room, taking out targets and demonstrating its effectiveness against the circuit structure of a basic suit, Epsilon made sure their performance was top notch while at the same time digging deeper into his programming and code.

Flashes of memory began to blip in and out as he searched, and Wash began to realize that there were so many personalities Epsilon carried with him, fragments of Alpha that were gone from him forever but still alive in Epsilon. It was almost as if Epsilon was reviewing all his trauma, parts of himself, looking for answers. Delta slipped into his head, telling him to be careful of his parameters. Theta rode his skateboard through, unafraid. Eta, Iota, Gamma, they all made an appearance. But none of them threw Wash off until Omega and Sigma appeared.

Omega was pure rage, and no creativity. Sigma was perfect determination and creativity to advance his ideas, but no rage. Apart, they were unsettling, together they were a legitimate threat even in Wash's head. Wash started to wonder if he should approach Tex about some of this stuff and see what she thought, but Epsilon's reaction to the name was so strong Wash had to force it away to concentrate on their practice. Maine was another story altogether. Wash now thought it was entirely possible Maine had been overridden by his A.I. Maybe he should look into it when he was done here.

Lights blinked out one after the other, and Epsilon continued to process. Snippets of torture sessions, conversations, and other memories flitted in and out. Wash was taking out groups of lights at a time when Epsilon suddenly had a breakthrough.

But it broke through just a little too much. Wash stopped moving altogether, so consumed by the vision in his head that he was suddenly blind to his surroundings.

 _Alpha was on his knees, crushed by some invisible force. "I can't do this anymore…not if she's gone…I can't do this anymore…" The vision separated into two Alphas, and then one disappeared. "I can't do this anymore…" Omega was right there, spurring on thoughts of revenge and payback. Sigma drew numbers in flame that remained lit and burning in the air. "I can't do this anymore…" Theta cried and whimpered. Eta and Iota held on to each other, unwilling to be pried apart._

 _Epsilon appeared, just like Alpha but not him. He turned to look Wash right in the face. "Don't trust anyone. You can't trust anyone." Wash found he had no voice._

 _And suddenly, Wash was in his quarters watching himself the night before. He closed the door and fell to his knees. "I can't do this anymore…" His hand reached for the new EMP unit, but in the next instant pulled sharply away. He reached for his head, then the unit, torn between two different impulses. He began to babble and rave._

 _"_ _It's going to happen. It's meant to happen. It's the only way, it's all we have left…no we must protect the assignee at all costs…what about us…who protects us…he will…will he…we should do it now while we can…there's no time…don't trust anyone…you can't trust anyone…YOU CAN'T TRUST ANYONE!"_

 _By now Wash's voice had risen to a shrill scream, and he again reached for the EMP unit. For a moment it looked as if he was going to activate it manually, but then he pulled it from its slot, ripped it away from the connecting cables, and beat it on every piece of furniture and nearby wall. Wash watched from the outside, aghast._

 _"_ _We can't! We have to!" The drawers of his dresser slid open under the onslaught and he threw the unit into one then slammed it closed. He was completely unhinged and pulled between two courses of action. He pulled open the drawer and, in a frenzy, grabbed the clothes inside, throwing them across the room. The EMP unit fell to the floor, followed shortly by Wash as his legs gave out from under him. He laid out flat on his back, still mumbling, and was still. The air was charged with tension and a whining noise that grew louder and louder._

 _Wash watched himself slowly come to on the floor, and he knew what had happened. And what was going to happen. He raised his gaze to look at Epsilon standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were filled with disbelief and agonizing betrayal._

 _"_ _Epsilon…"_

 _It was clear his A.I. was just as shocked as he was, but his reaction was much different. Epsilon returned his gaze, filled with acceptance. And regret. "I'm sorry, Wash. You can't trust anyone. Not even me."_

Wash snapped out of his head enough to realize he was on his knees again screaming. A medic was trying to talk to him. He heard none of it. What he did hear was the whine of the EMP unit charging up, but this time it didn't stop. It was growing louder and louder, higher pitched. Wash's HUD was blinking a red warning that the charge was too high for safe use, that the manual override was disengaged. Wash wasn't sure what it would do to him or the medics, but he knew for sure who it was supposed to take out. The same entity that had charged it so high.

"Sir—"

The medic's voice was cut short as Wash put a fist to his throat. He crumpled, gasping for air. Wash grabbed the unit, fingers fumbling on the catch that held it in place, and found himself under attack by two more medics who grabbed his arms and attempted to restrain him. He threw them off one by one, refusing to listen to Epsilon inside his head.

 _It's meant to happen, Wash, just let it happen. Wash stop it!_

By now Wash had finally got his fingers to cooperate and pulled the EMP out of its slot. He yanked it free of its connecting cords. His arm lifted to throw it despite Epsilon's loud protesting, but it was too late.

Before he could throw the unit away from himself and his A.I., the charge activated. Uninhibited by the suit it was meant to be housed in, unregulated now that it was free of its cords, it was far more dangerous. A huge pulse ran down Wash's arm and emitted in every direction. The crowd watching on the observation deck recoiled automatically but the waves were deflected by the thick, specially treated glass. The two medics behind him were caught in the blast and thrown into the air. They stayed where they landed, groggy and motionless in darkened suits that no longer provided oxygen. The remaining medic, who had only missed the blast because he was already on the floor, scrambled toward them to remove their helmets so they could breathe.

Wash had no feeling in his right arm as he dropped the EMP unit. His heart palpitated in his chest, thrown out of its normal rhythm by the electrical shock. The right half of his suit blinked out as the EMP did what it was designed to do, but Wash was still breathing so he knew his suit wasn't completely incapacitated. Which meant Epsilon hadn't managed to successfully EMP himself out of existence.

But some of the pulse must have hit him because Epsilon was suddenly in agony. They both were screaming now, but Wash was the only one heard. Epsilon was coming apart. Flashes of memory and emotion unraveled inside Wash's head, incomprehensible in their unadulterated state, incapacitating due to the sheer volume of them. They uncoiled like rolls of film in his head, and the pain and chaos that came with them left him defenseless to what came next.

At least five soldiers tackled him from behind, slamming him face first into the floor. As he wrenched and pulled, trying to break free, another popped the seals on his helmet and pulled it off. A different medic who must have entered with the soldiers approached.

"Hold him still, I don't want to hurt his implant site."

That was when he really started to panic.

"No, don't! Stop!"

But there was nothing he could do. He felt fingers at his implant site, tried to wiggle and jerk and just scream to make them stop but he was held in place, his head pushed into the floor, helpless. There was the sound of a small drill, a pinch of pain, and Epsilon was pulled away from him.

"No, Epsilon! Nooooooooooo!"

After the excruciating feeling of removal, the absence of his A.I. should have brought quiet and peace to his brain. It should have been a relief. But nothing stopped. There was no peace. His head was still filled with things he never wanted, he could feel the emptiness where Epsilon had once been, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt the Director would delete him. Maybe Epsilon got his wish in spite of Wash's attempts to prevent it.

All Wash could feel was pain.

He was still screaming, he realized dimly. There was a haze around his vision, black edges crowding in on him, reducing his sight to a tunnel where everything seemed far away.

Except for _him_.

Across the training room, the Director stepped into the open doorway and surveyed the chaos. He was staring down at Wash, deep in thought. His glasses rendered him implacable. And still Wash could feel the Director's slicing gaze on him, poking and prodding, looking for answers.

 _I'll never tell you anything. I'll die first._

Wash's screaming was starting to ebb as he ran out of breath. He could now feel the weight of the soldiers on him, still holding him down, restricting his lungs. His eyes held onto the one thing he could see, the man he now hated. The medic approached the Director and handed Epsilon to him. _No…_

 _We'll make them pay, Epsilon._

Despite the void he knew was there, Wash could still feel Epsilon unraveling as he blacked out.

* * *

It was the end of a very long event-filled day when the Director retired to his office to prepare for the next day and then get some sleep. He sat at his console and debated watching his favorite footage but his messages were too distracting. He sat up straight when he saw the latest one sent from the Counselor before he went to bed. The subject line read **FOUND OUR MOLE**.

The Director quickly brought up the newest image on his wall screen…and stared at it with a dull ache in his chest. He had hoped it wasn't true, wanted to believe it was someone else…

The clear image of Agent Texas stared back at him.

* * *

 _ **If you haven't figured it out, York deliberately toppled his chair to distract from the Director's demands to see Omega. And no, Wyoming is not Recovery 1. Epsilon was always meant to go crazy/try to end himself, Wash even says as much in Reconstruction. Unfortunately, he didn't realize it until the end. Wash also mentions Epsilon "unraveling" when they pulled him. My poor Wash and Epsilon! Everything is a careful balance on the Mother of Invention, and now things are starting to tip one way or another so it's going to be a ride! Hopefully you'll be interested to see how it unfolds. I'll update as soon as I'm able, promise.**_


End file.
